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i 


THE 

ART    OF    STUDY 


A  MANUAL  FOR  TEACHERS  AND  STUDENTS  OF  THE  SCIENCE 
AND  THE  ART  OF  TEACHING 


B.  A.  HINSDALE,  Ph.  D.,  LL.  D. 

PROFESSOR    OF   THE   SCIENCE    AND    THE    ART    OF   TEACHING,    UNIVERSITY   OF   MICHIGAN 

Author  of  "  Schools  and  Studies,"  "Studies  in  Education,"  "  How  to  Study  and  Teach 

History,"  "  Teachinf<  the  Language-Arts,"  "  fesus  as  a  Teacher,"  "  Horace  Mann 

and  the  Common  School  Ra'ival  in  the  United  States,"  "  The  Old  Norths 

west,"  and  "  The  American  Government." 


Il58\ 


$ 


NEW  YORK  •:•  CINCINNATI  •:•  CHICAGO 
AMERICAN  BOOK  COMPANY 


Oct.  1  aoi. 


Copyright,  1 900,  by  ^ 

B .  'A  .  H  I  N  s  D  A  L  E . 

Art  of  Study. 


IJ? 


'  0  2.  ^ 

PREFACE. 

The  ultimate  object  of  this  book  is  to  place  the  Art  of 
Study  as  a  tool  or  instrument  in  the  hands  of  pupils  and 
students  in  schools.  But  as  this  object  can  be  reached 
only  by  way  of  the  teachers,  the  book  is  primarily  ad- 
dressed to  them,  and  to  students  of  the  science  and  the 
art  of  teaching.  It  is,  therefore,  plainly  necessary  in  the 
first  place  to  demonstrate  the  relations  that  should  exist 
between  the  pupil  and  the  teacher  in  the  school,  and  then 
to  present  practical  methods  by  which  the  teacher  may 
establish  and  maintain  such  relations.  Only  through 
these  means  can  the  grand  end  be  reached.  The  book, 
it  will  be  seen,  proposes  a  partial  readjustment  of  the  re- 
lations existing  between  the  pupil  and  the  teacher.  In 
other  words,  it  proposes  to  effect  a  partial  shifting  of  the 
center  of  gravity  in  the  school,  by  making  the  pupil  the 
center  of  the  system  and  placing  the  teacher  in  his  proper 
orbit. 

It  would  have  been  easy  greatly  to  multiply  the  parallel 
readings  accompanying  the  chapters,  but  my  observation 
is  that  in  such  a  case  a  small  but  well-chosen  bibliography 
is  better  than  a  large  one. 

B.  A.  HINSDALE. 

Thk  University  ok  Michioan 

3 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Learning  and  Teaching 7 

II.   Study  and  its  Relations  to  Learning  and  Teach- 
ing        14 

in.  The  Art  ov  Study  Defined 20 

IV.  Neglect  of  the  Art  of  Study 25 

V.  Is  Knowledge  or  Mental  Developmknt  the  End 

of  Teaching  ? 31 

VI.   The  First  Stage  of  Instruction  in  the  Art  of 

Study 39 

VII.  The  Child's  First  Contact  with  the  Book 47 

VIII.  The  Study-Recitation 55 

IX.   The  Study-Lesson 68 

X.  Attacking  the    Lesson 78 

XL  The  Recitation-Lesson 89 

XII.  Attention:  Its  Nature,  Kinds,  and  Value 105 

XIII.  Passive  Attention  :    Interest 117 

XIV.  The  Cultivation  of  Passive  Attention 127 

XV.  Active  Attention  :  The  Will 141 

XVI.  The  Cultivation  of  Active  Attention 152 

XVI  I.  Thoroughness 170 

XVIII.   The  Relations  of  Feeling  to  Sti-dv  and  Learn- 
ing      187 

XIX.    Methods  of  Learning 197 

XX.    Methods  of  Teaching 219 

XXI.   Formal  Teaching  of  the  Art  of  Study 232 

XXII.   Teaching  as  a  Mode  of  Learning 254 

S 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

//S8l 

CHATTER  I. 

LEARNING   AND   TEACHING, 

One  of  the  most  valuable  arts  that  a  boy  or  a  girl, 
a  young  man  or  a  young  woman,  can  learn  is  the  art  of 
„  ,       ,       study.     It  is  also   an  art   that   is  nowhere  ad- 

Value  of  •' 

the  Art  of  equatcly  taught.  It  receives  little  conscious 
®*"  ^'  attention  on  the  part  of  either  teacher  or  pupil 

in  the  school,  and  outside  the  school  it  is  almost  wholly 
neglected.  These  facts  furnish  the  reason  for  the  prepa- 
ration and  publication  of  this  book,  which  deals  with  the 
leading  features  of  this  art. 

In  entering  upon  the  subject,  the  first  thing  that 
demands  attention  is,  obviously,  to  bound  and  describe 
the  territory  that  the  book  will  cultivate.  To 
this  Work.  ^^  ^^^'^  ^^''^^  require  two  or  three  brief  chapters. 
We  must  begin  with  learning,  which  is  the 
primary  activity  of  the  school,  and  with  teaching,  which 
is  so  closely  connected  with  learning  as  almost  to  form 
a  part  of  it. 

The  science  and  the  art  of  teaching  assume  that  there 
is  a  duality  of  existence, — the  mind  and  its  environment, 
or  the    mind  and  the  worUl.       Thilosophers  sometimes 

7 


8  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

deny    Ihiit    tliis  duality  exists  in   reality,  and   affirm  that 

there    is    only  one    existence,  of    which    mind 

The  Duality    ^^^j   the  world    arc  Only  different  phascs.     But 

of  Being.  ■'  ^ 

this  is  a  metaphysical,  not  a  pedagogical, 
question.  Pedagogy  starts  with  the  apparent  duality  of 
existence,  and  never  stops  to  inquire  whether  it  is  real  or 
not.  The  problem  of  learning,  or  mental  growth,  then, 
involves  the  following  elements  : 

I.  The  mind,  which  is  self-active  and  capable  of  learn- 
ing  or  of  growing  by  its  own  activity. 
Process  of  2.  Objects  of  knowledge  or  things  capable 
i^earning.  ^j  being  known.  These  are  of  various  kinds, 
as  natural  objects,  the  facts  of  human  society,  and  the 
facts  of  the  mind  itself. 

3.  A  connection  between  the  mind  and  such  an  object, 
for  there  is  no  activity  of  the  mind,  and  so  no  knowledge 
or  mental  growth,  until  the  two  are  brought  into  due 
relation.  Either  the  mind  must  go  to  the  object  of  knowl- 
edge, or  the  object  of  knowledge  must  be  brought  to 
the  mind. 

At  this  point  I  should  state  that  many  objects  of 
knowledge  can  be  viewed  in  two  ways — immediately  and 
mediately.  In  the  first  case,  the  mind  and  the  object  are 
brought  into  immediate  contact ;  in  the  sphere  of  the 
senses  the  individual  sees  or  hears  or  handles  the  object 
for  himself,  and  is  not  dependent  upon  the  eyes  or  ears  or 
fingers  of  any  other  person.  In  the  second  case,  the  in- 
dividual knows  the  object  through  some  report  or  repre- 
sentation of  it  made  by  another,  that  is,  through  another's 
mediation.  Thus,  I  have  seen  Detroit  and  Lake  Erie  and 
have  a  first-hand  or  immediate  knowledge  of  them,  but 
Constantinople  and  the  Black  Sea  I  have  not  seen,  and 
so  know  them  only  mediately  or  at  second-hand,  that  is, 


LEARMXG  AND  TEACHIXG.  g 

through  language  and  pictures.     In  the  case  of  first-hand 

knowledge  there  are  two  terms  in  the  series  ;   in 

Second-         the  casc   of  second-hand  knowledge   there  are 

hand  three  terms.    This  distinction  of  first  and  second- 

Knowledge.  ,        ,   ,  ,    ,  .... 

hand  knowledge,  while   important   in  its  own 

place,  does  not,  however,  touch  the  core  of  the  learning 
process.  No  matter  whether  we  know  the  object  directly 
or  indirectly,  the  object  itself  or  the  representation  of  it 
must  come  into  real  relation  with  the  mind.  Thus  our 
earliest  knowledge  originates  in  points  of  contact  between 
our  mental  faculties  and  natural  objects  lying  right  about 
us  in  the  world.  Later  we  learn  other  objects  through  lan- 
guage and  other  forms  of  representation.  We  cannot  ex- 
plain the  excitation  or  activity  of  the  mind  that  is  caused  by 
bringing  objects  of  knowledge  into  contact  with  it,  any 
more  than  we  can  explain  the  excitation  of  the  mouths  of 
certain  animals  when  particles  of  food  come  in  their  way; 
but  we  are  certain  of  the  fact — the  young  mind  puts  out 
its  tentacles,  so  to  speak,  and  makes  these  objects  of 
knowledge  its  own. 

The  word  "  learn  "  is   supposed  to  come  from   a   root 
meaning  to  go  or  to  go  over,  and  it  means  to  gain  knowl- 
edge or  information  in  regard  to  some  subject ; 
u^g^^^f     to  ascertain  by  inquiry,  study,  or  investigation  ; 
to  fix   in  the  mind  ;  to  acquire  understanding 
or  skill.     Activity  is  involved  in  the  very  root  idea. 

The  root  of  the  word  "  teach  "  means  to  show,  and  in 
the  broadest  sense  it  means  to  secure  the  desired  relation 
between  the  mind  and  some  appropriate  educa- 
"Teach*^"  tion-material.  It  may  be  conceived  of  as  leading 
the  mind  to  knowledge,  or  as  bringing  knowl- 
edge to  the  mind.  The  teacher,  accordingK",  is  merely  a 
mediator  between  the  knowing  mind  of  the  pupil,  on  the 


,0  Till-:  ART  01-  STUDY. 

one  hand,  and  the  matter  that  is  to  be  known,  on  the 
other.  He  brings  the  two  togetlier  and  so  assists  the 
niiiul  in  the  generation  of  knowledge.  Hence  the  defini- 
tions :  "  To  teach  is  to  cause  to  learn  ;  "  "  Teaching  is 
causing  another  to  know  ;  "  "  Teaching  involves  the  idea 
of  knowledge  obtained  by  an  active  mental  process." 

Learning  and   teaching,  closely   united  as  they  are,  are 

not    inseparable,    because    a    man   may  learn    without    a 

teacher   in    the  school  of    self-cultivation.      It 

The  Two  not  ^     ^^jj  ^j^^^.    j^^  such  a  case  the  learner  is 

Inseparable.         -i 

self-taught,  or  is  his  own  teacher,  but  such  use 
of  the  words,  while  consonant  with  the  nature  of  the  teach- 
ing process,  is  rather  outside  of  the  strict  line  of  usage. 

But  while  there  may  be  learningwithout  teaching,  there 
can  be  no  teaching  without  learning.  Learning  is  not 
Relations  merely  the  correlative  idea  of  teaching,  but  is 
andTeach^  onc  of  its  Constituent  elements.  Teaching  in- 
ing.  volves  the  idea  of  a  pupil,  and  this  pupil  in  a 

state  of  mental  activity  that  is  produced  by  the  teaching. 
When  the  pupil's  mind  ceases  to  respond  to  the  substance 
presented,  there  is  no  teaching,  no  matter  what  the 
teacher  may  do.  When  learning  ceases,  teaching  ceases. 
A  teacher  cannot  teach  a  group  of  absolutely  inert  pupils 
any  more  than  he  can  teach  a  group  of  stumps  or  a  pile 
of  bowlders.  In  fact,  such  children  are  not  pupils  at  all. 
To  appropriate  the  words  of  another  writer,  "  Teaching  is 
that  part  of  the  two-fold  learning-process  by  which  knowl- 
edge which  is  yet  outside  of  the  learner's  mind,  is  directed 
toward  that  mind  ;  and  learning  is  that  part  of  the  same 
two-fold  process  by  which  the  knowledge  taught  is  made 
the  learner's  own.  Still,  as  before,  however,  there  can  be 
no  teacher  where  there  is  not  a  learner ;  although,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  may  be  a  learner  where  there  is  no  one 
else  than  himself  to  be  his  teacher." 


LEAK.\L\G  A\D  TEACHING.  \i 

So  this  writer  insists  that  intelligent,  purposeful  teach- 
ing includes  the  idea  of  two  persons,  both  of  whom  are 
Teachine  active,  and  not  merely  active,  but  active  over 
Implies  the  same  lesson.  This  end  may  be  secured  by 
i^earn  ng.  ^j^^  teachcr  hearing  a  recitation  and  comment- 
ing on  it ;  but  this  is  not  necessarily  teaching,  since 
the  pupil  may  be  merely  exercising  his  memory,  re- 
citing what  he  has  memorized  verbally  without  under- 
standing a  word  of  it,  and  so  is  not  taught  anything  because 
he  does  not  learn  anything.  In  such  case  he  is  not  caused 
to  know  a  single  fact  or  truth  that  he  did  not  know  before, 
either  from  the  lesson  itself  or  from  the  teacher's  hearing 
him  recite;  nor  does  he  learn  anything  by  his  teacher's 
wisest  comments  or  explanations,  no  matter  how  valuable 
these  may  be  in  themselves,  if  he  pays  no  attention  to 
them  or  if  he  is  unable  to  understand  them.  There  must 
be  mutual  effort  directed  to  the  same  end.  The  teacher 
must  strive  to  cause  the  pupil  to  learn  a  particular 
fact  or  truth  that  he  wants  him  to  know  ;  the  learner 
must  seek  to  learn  this  particular  fact  or  truth,  and 
until  the  two  are  enlisted  in  this  common  work,  the 
process  of  teaching  has  not  begun.  To  be  sure,  teach- 
ing and  learning  are  things  of  degrees  ;  I  am  here  speak- 
ing of  the  ideal. 

Strictly  speaking  there  is  no  such  thing  as  giving  or 
imparting  knowledge.  Every  one  must  make  his  own 
knowledge,  for  man  is  a  knowledge-maker  by  nature. 
All  that  one  person  can  do  for  another,  as  a  teacher  for 
a  pupil,  is  to  help  to  do  this  work.  The  child  is  engaged 
in  making  knowledge  from  his  earliest  days.' 

1  "  In  this  sense  we  have  all  been  engaged  more  or  less  in  original  re- 
search from  our  earliest  years;  and  we  probably  attain  greater  success 
in  infancy  than  in  youth  or  in  later  life.     The  young  child  is  completely 


52 


Tllh:  ART  OF  STUDY. 


Learning  governs  teaching,  as  the  liistory  of  the  word 
suggests.  Once,  and  this  no  farther  back  than  Spenser 
and  Shakespeare,  learning  applied  to  both  efforts,  that  of 
the  pupil  as  well  as  that  of  the  teacher  ;  a  man  could  learn 
a  lesson  or  he  could  learn  a  pupil. 

The  function  or  office  of  the  pupil  and  the  function  or 

office  of  the  teacher  are   therefore  perfectly  clear.     The 

pupil  is  to  learn,  the  teacher  is  to  teach  or  help 

Pupil  and      ]^i,^-j  l^;-|rn  ;  both  are  active  about  the  same  thing. 

Teacher. 

but  active  in  different  ways.  More  definitely, 
the  function  or  office  of  the  teacher  is  to  mediate  be- 
tween the  pupil's  mind  and  the  things  that  the  pupil  must 
learn  or  know.  The  question  whether  the  teacher  shall 
lead  the  pupil  to  these  things  or  bring  the  things  to  the 
pupil,  is  much  like  the  question  of  bringing  the  horse  and 
the  water  together.  The  teacher's  success  is  measured  by 
the  pupil's  success.  We  shall  not  here  enter  into  the  ele- 
ments that  arc  involved  in  successful  mediation  between 
mind  and  knowledge,  that  is,  in  teaching,  further  than  to 
say  that  the  teacher  must  select  matter  which  is  suitable 
for  the  pupil  at  his  stage  of  advancement,  and  so  com- 
bine, arrange,  and  present  this  matter  that  the  pupil  can 
understand  and  learn. 

Parallel  Reading. — Teaching  and  Teachers,  H.  Clay  Trum- 
bull. Philadelphia,  John  D.  Wattles,  1884.  Chap.  I.  ("  The 
Teaching  Process."  I  have  made  free  use  of  this  chapter  in 
preparing  my  own.)  Studies  in  Education,  B.  A.  Hinsdale. 
Chicago  and  New  York,  Werner  School  Book  Co.,  1896.  Chap. 
I.  (■'  The   Sources  of  Human  Cultivation"). 

cut  off  from  all  external  sources  of  information;  audit  could  acquire  no 
knowledge  beyond  a  remembrance  of  confused  sensations,  if  it  did  not 


LEARNING  AND  TEACHING.  13 

possess  the  power  of  putting  that  and  that  together  and  finding  things  out 
for  itself.  By  applying  this  power,  however,  the  child  succeeds  in  bringing 
a  large  measure  of  order  out  of  the  chaos  of  sensations  which  it  experi- 
ences. The  method  that  it  uses  is  the  stientitic  or  knowledge-making 
method."    Frof.  A.  MacMcchan. 


CHAPTER  II. 

STUDY   AND    ITS  RELATIONS  TO   LEARNING   AND 
TEACHING. 

Learning  is  the  activity  of  the  pupil,  teaching  the  ac- 
tivity of  the  instructor ;  and  in  the  good  school  the  two 
activities  are  found  in  constant  relation.  The  pupil  is 
striving  to  learn  ;  the  instructor  to  teach.  We  are  now 
to  define  study  and  demonstrate  its  relation  to  teaching 
and  learning. 

Our  English  words  "  study,"  "  student,"  and  "  studious  " 

all  go  back  to  the  Latin  verb  studcre,  which  means,  first, 

"Study,"      to  be  eager,  zealous,  or  diligent  about  somebody 

"Student,"  or  Something  —  to  be  friendly,  attached,  or 
•*  studious."  ,  ,  ,  ,  .  . 

favorable    to    a  person,  or  to  tavor  him  ;  and 

secondly,  to  apply  one's  self  with  zeal  and  interest  to  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge  or  learning,  or  to  study.  Both 
definitions  denote  an  active  state  of  mind;  that  is,  the 
element  of  zeal  or  interest  found  in  the  original  word  runs 
through  all  its  changes.  In  the  second  sense,  therefore, 
a  student  would  be  one  who  pursues  some  subject  with 
interest ;  he  would  study  when  he  devotes  himself  zeal- 
ously to  mastering  some  subject,  while  a  study  would  be 
a  subject  that  he  could  pursue  with  zeal.  The  second 
and  later  meaning  of  the  word  seems  remote  from  the 

14 


STUDY,  LEARNING,  AND  TEACHING.  15 

first  one,  but  it  is  not  difficult  to  explain  how  it  origin- 
ated .^ 

We  shall  have  no  further  use  for  the  original  meaning 
of  studcrc,  since  our  subject  lies  wholly  in  the   line  of  the 

later  meaning  or  definition  of  the  word.  But 
study  and     even  here  we  must  narrow  the  field  ;  for  study, 

in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term,  is  by  no  means 
co-extensive  with  the  pursuit  or  the  zealous  pursuit  of 
knowledge.  The  tendency  of  usage  is  to  confine  the  word 
within  much  narrower  limits.  Dr.  Alexander  Bain,  for 
example,  finds  the  idea  of  study  closely  associated  with 
that  of  learning  from  books.  To  quote  a  few  sen- 
tences from  this  writer: 

"  We  may  stretch  the  word,  without  culpable  license,  to  comprise 
the  observation  of  facts  of  all  kinds,  but  it  more  naturally  suggests 

the  resort  to  book-lore  for  the  knowledge  that  we  are  in 
on'study.       Quest  of.     There  is  considerable  propriety  in  restricting 

it  to  this  meaning ;  or,  at  all  events,  in  treating  the  art  of 
becoming  wise  through  reading  as  different  from  the  arts  of  observing 
facts  at  first  hand.     In  short,  study  should  not  be  made  co-extensive 

1  The  question  to  be  answered  is  how  sludcrc,  which  meant  originally 
merely  to  be  zealous  about  something,  or  to  be  diligent  in  general,  came  to 
be  limited  to  diligence  about  knowledge  or  learning.  Why  was  not  the 
word  limited  to  plowing,  tailoring,  or  baking  bread  ?  Obviously,  if  a  man 
is  really  eager  or  zealous  about  somebody  or  something,  he  will  naturally 
give  him  or  it  serious  attention  ;  that  is,  he  will  inquire  and  try  to  find  out 
how  he  can  favor  the  man  or  secure  the  thing ;  and  such  inquiry  is  just  what 
constitutes  study  in  the  secondary  sense  of  the  word.  This  gives  the  pro- 
cess or  method  prominence,  and  it  was  easy  when  this  point  had  been 
reached,  if  not  indeed  necessary,  to  limit  sttniere  in  the  abstract,  or  to  study 
as  we  are  accustomed  to  use  the  word.  Thus  it  came  about  that  studere 
came  to  mean  to  pursue  knowledge  zealously,  and  studium,  the  correlative 
noun,  came  to  mean  a  subject,  a  branch  of  knowledge,  or  a  study.  Studium 
also  meant  a  place  where  study  is  done,  or  a  school.  Thus,  the  institutions 
that  we  now  call  universities  were  originally  called  studia  tiuiversalia,  or 
public  schools. 


,r,  Till:  ART  OF  STUDY. 

wilh  kiiowlccl},'c-gctlin>j.  I)ul  wiili  l)ook-learIlinJ,^  In  thus  narrowing 
the  field,  we  have  the  obvious  advantage  of  cultivating  it  more  care- 
fully, and  the  unobvious,  but  very  real  advantage  of  dealing  with  one 
homogenetjus  subject." 

Tilt:  last  remark  refers  solely  to  Dr.  Bain's  own  treat- 
ment of  the  subject,  but  it  is  just  as  applicable  to  my  own. 
stady  and  '^^'  '^'^y'^  again  :  "  The  mental  exercise  that  we 
the  Use  of  no^  Call '  study  '  began  when  books  began,  when 
knowledge  was  reduced  to  language  and  laid 
out  systematically  in  verbal  compositions."  ^ 

So  far  the  history  of  the  word  supports  Dr.  Bain's  view. 
Unmistakably  the  tendency  has  been  to  confine  the 
o.  ^       »      word  "  study  "  to  the  use  of  books.     When  we 

study  not  •' 

Limited  to  deal  with  real  things,  as  natural  objects,  we 
commonly  employ  some  other  word  or  words. 
One  may,  to  be  sure,  study  a  daisy,  a  crab,  or  a  piece  of 
coral,  but  he  is  more  apt  to  say  he  examines  or  investi- 
gates it.  When  Dr.  Bain  goes  further,  however,  as  he 
does,  and  says  that  study  "  relates  more  to  self-education 
than  to  instruction  under  masters  ;  "  that  "  it  supposes 
the  voluntary  choice  of  the  individual  rather  than  the 
constraint  of  an  outward  discipline,"  and  that  "  the  time 
for  its  application  is  when  the  pupil  is  emancipated 
from  the  prescription  and  control  of  the  scholastic 
curriculum,"  we  cannot  yield  our  assent.  This  view  ex- 
cludes teachers  and  the  school  from  the  field  of  study 
properly  so-called,  and  confines  the  word  to  self-cultiva- 
tion, which  usage,  at  least  in  this  country,  would  not 
sanction,  however  it  may  be  in  England.  With  us,  cer- 
tainly, usage  does  not  tend  even  to  the  partial  exclusion  of 
schools  and  teachers  from  this  field.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  word  at  once  suggests  those  instruments  of  education. 
'  Practical  Essays,  Xew  York,  1).  Appleton  &  Co.,  1884,  pp.  203-4. 


STUDY,  LEARNING,  AND  TEACHING.  17 

Still  it  is  an  important  fact  that  study  is  not  limited  to 
schools.  Men  can  study  and  do  study  without  schools 
study  not  ^^  teachers  ;  to  suppose  that  they  do  not  is  to 
i^imitedto  Commit  a  blunder  even  greater  than  to  say  that 
pupils  do  not  study  in  schools.  Unfortunately, 
many  youths,  on  taking  leave  of  school,  leave  study  and 
studies  behind  them.  They  forget  that  when  what  Rosen- 
kranz  calls  "the absolute  limit  of  education  "^  is  reached, 
the  original  inequality  between  the  pupil  and  the  teacher 
is  canceled,  and  that  the  pupil  should  now  enter  into 
the  field  of  self-culture.  The  two  persons  may  con- 
tinue to  be  friends,  but  they  are  no  longer  teacher  and 
pupil.  The  relation  that  these  words  express  is  a  beau- 
tiful one  in  its  own  proper  time,  but,  protracted  beyond 
that  time,  it  is  offensive.  It  argues  patronage  upon  the 
one  part  and  dependence  upon  the  other.  The  French 
philosopher  Condillac,  addressing  a  pupil  who  had  reached 
this  stage  of  progress,  said :  "  Henceforth,  Sir,  it  remains 
for  you  alone  to  instruct  yourself.  Perhaps  you  imagine 
you  have  finished  ;  but  it  is  I  who  have  finished.  You 
are  to  begin  anew  "^  This  is  the  point  of  view  from  which 
it  is  sometimes  said  that  the  business  of  the  teacher  is  to 
make  himself  useless,  which  he  does  by  putting  the  pupil 
upon  his  feet  and  teaching  him  to  walk  alone. 

What  has  been  said  suggests  the  relation  to  each  other 

of  reading  and  study.     As  an  exercise  of   mind,  they  do 

not  differ  save  in   degree ;  both  arts  look  to 

Reading  1        •    .  1  1  •  r  1  •  1 

and  Study     obtamuig  thought  or  meanmg  from  the  prmted 
Discrimi-     page.       But    study  is  more    than     reading:    it 

nated.  *     ^  .       -^      .  .  ^ 

may  be  called  intensive  reading.     The  student 
goes  over  the   matter  more  attentively  than  the  reader; 

1  The  Philosophy  of  RJiuatioit,  New  York.  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1S86.  p.  49. 
'•*  History  of  Peda^^ot^y,  Compayre,  Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  1886,  p.  318. 

Art  of  Study . — 2. 


1 8  Tin:  ART  OF  STUDY. 

he  recalls  it  more  fully,  possesses  himself  of  it  more 
thoroughly.  There  is  a  difference,  too,  in  the  subject- 
matter  of  readinj^  and  study.  We  do  not  commonly  ap- 
ply the  term  "  reading"  to  text-books  and  other  works  of 
a  similar  character  prepared  expressly  for  school  use,  but 
to  books  or  other  reading  matter  of  a  more  general  char- 
acter containing  literary  elements.  Thus,  the  pupil  studies 
his  grammar  and  arithmetic,  reads  or  studies  his  "  Lady  of 
the  Lake  "  or  "Hamlet,"  but  only  reads  the  daily  newspaper 
(unless  it  be  the  scores  of  the  ball  games)  and  the  fugitive 
essay.  Still  more,  reading  embraces  a  wider  range  of 
mental  interests  than  study.  We  read  for  amusement  or 
diversion  as  well  as  for  serious  instruction,  but  that  idea 
is  rarely  associated  with  studies,  or  at  least  with  studies 
carried  on  in  the  school.  Thus  there  appears  in  the 
modern  word  "  study  "  that  element  of  zeal  or  thorough- 
ness which  characterizes   the  ancient  word  studcre. 

The  remark  should  be  added  that  in  England  stud}'  is 
not  used  in  our  peculiar  school  sense;  "read"  is  rather 
TheEne-  ^^^^  Avord  that  is  employed  where  we  say 
lish  Sense  "  study."  Thus,  at  the  univcrsities,  the  studcnt 
"  reads  "  chemistry  and  calculus,  Demosthenes 
and  Tacitus,  as  well  as  Adam  Smith  and  David  Hume, 
while  the  hard  student  is  the  "  hard  reader."  Again,  we 
have  spoken  of  knowledge  or  instruction  as  though  it 
constituted  the  end  both  of  study  and  of  serious  reading, 
nay  more,  the  end  of  learning  itself.  This  is  a  contro- 
verted question  as  well  as  an  important  one,  but  it  will 
not  be  dealt  with  in  this  place  beyond  the  promise  to 
consider  it  in  a  future  chapter. 

In  view  of  the  preceding  discussion  the  answer  to  the 
question.  What  is  the  relation  of  study  to  learning 
and    teaching  ?  is  obvious  enough.     Study  is  the  use  of 


STUDY,  LEARNING,  AND  TEACHING.  19 

books  for  the   serious    purpose    of    gaining    knowledge; 
it  looks  to  the  mastery  of  a  subject,  or  of  some 

study  and 

i,earning.  portion  of  a  Subject,  by  means  of  what  has 
been  written  about  it.  More  narrowly,  pupils 
and  students  commonly  associate  study  with  text-books, 
but  the  association  is  not  a  necessary  one.  Study  is  a 
mode  of  learning,  but  not  the  only  mode,  for  we  can 
learn  by  observation,  by  listening  to  conversation,  or  by 
the  simple  reading  of  an  article  in  the  newspaper.  Suc- 
cessful study  of  a  subject  is  the  same  thing  as  learning  it; 
if  the  student  succeeds  with  a  lesson,  he  knows  it,  not, 
perhaps,  as  fully  as  the  author,  or  as  the  teacher,  but  he 
knows  it  according  to  his  own  measure.  Thus  the  word 
tends  to  exclude  oral  instruction  and  the  direct  investiga- 
tion of  facts ;  that  is,  lectures  or  other  oral  lessons  and 
the  work  of  the  laboratory.  At  the  same  time,  the  ex- 
clusion of  these  exercises  is  more  formal  than  real,  be- 
cause intellectual  applications  never  wholly  lose  their  iden- 
tity. Still,  we  shall  best  advance  our  immediate  object 
by  keeping  books,  and  particularly  text-books,  constantly 
in  mind  ;  for  while  the  investigation  of  things  and  the 
study  of  books  have  much  in  common,  they  are,  never- 
theless, distinct  arts.  The  library  is  not  a  laboratory  or 
the  laboratory  a  library,  except  in  a  figure  of  speech. 
And,  still  further,  notwithstanding  the  great  progress 
made  in  recent  years  by  real  study,  that  is  by  the  direct 
study  of  objects,  as  in  nature  lessons,  the  book  still  gives, 
and  will  continue  to  give,  the  norm  to  the  school. 

Parallel  Reading. — Practical  Essays,  Alexander  Bain. 
New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1884.  Chap.  VIII.  ("The 
Art  of  Study").  (See  Chapter  XXI.  of  the  present  work  for 
further  references). 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  ART  OF  STUDY  DEITNED. 

We  have  now  defined  learning,  teaching,  and  study, 
and  demonstrated  their  relations.  The  pupil  learns  when 
he  acquires  knowledge,  and  the  teacher  teaches  when  he 
assists  the  pupil  to  learn.  Again,  the  pupil  studies  when 
he  seeks  to  meet  his  teacher  fairly  and  squarely  on  the 
lesson  that  has  been  assigned  him  by  preparing  that  lesson. 
But  what  is  the  art  of  study  ? 

The  term  "  art "  is  used  in  two  senses.  First,  it  means 
skill  or  practical  ability  actually  shown  in  the  pursuit  of 
Two  Senses  some  Calling  or  activity.  Secondly,  it  means 
of  Art:  The  the  activity  iu  which  such  skill  is  shown  con- 

Practical  _  •' 

and  the  sidered  as  a  subject.  Thus,  when  we  speak  of 
Re  ective.  ^j^^  photographer's  art  we  may  mean  either  the 
degree  of  skill  or  proficience  that  a  particular  photographer 
shows  in  making  photographs,  or  the  making  of  such 
pictures  considered  as  a  vocation  to  be  followed  or  a 
subject  to  be  studied.  The  same  may  be  said  of  paint- 
ing, oratory,  architecture,  teaching,  or  any  other  pur- 
suit to  which  the  term  "  art  "  is  properly  applied.  To  be 
master  of  one's  art  is  to  possess  much  ability  in  the  prose- 
cution of  some  employment  called  an  art.  Furthermore, 
an  art  in  the  second  sense  has  its  own  methods,  rules,  and 
history  that  may  be  made  the  subjects  of  investigation  or 
study.     In  this  sense  the  term  "  reflective  "  may  be  applied 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY  DEFLWED.  21 

to  an  art,  the  suggestion  being  that  the  cultivator  of  this  art 
halts,  so  to  speak,  in  his  practice  or  activity  in  order  to 
make  it  the  subject  of  examination.  Nor  is  this  all  :  cer- 
tain arts  have  rules  and  methods  in  common,  and  so  we 
apply  the  term  to  them  collectively,  calling  them  art  in  a 
general  or  abstract  sense. 

The  relations  of  art  as  practical  skill  and  art  as  method 
or  a  code  of  rules  is  an  interesting  subject.  Experience 
Relations  counts  for  much  in  such  matters,  but  the  intel- 
of  skuiand  ligent  practice  of  any  art  presupposes  a  certain 

Sf  etliod* 

amount  of  study  of,  or  of  acquaintance  with,  its 
method  and  rules.  The  practitioner  in  such  case  must  be 
familiar  with  the  leading  features  of  his  art.  He  may  not 
have  acquired  his  knowledge  in  large  degree  from  books 
or  lectures,  but,  if  not,  he  must  have  investigated  the  sub- 
ject directly  for  himself.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  equally 
clear  that  no  mere  investigation  of  an  art,  no  amount  of 
knowledge  concerning  it,  will,  of  itself,  make  a  skillful 
practitioner  or  artist.  Knowledge,  while  invaluable  in 
itself,  can  never  be  made  to  take  the  place  of  that  practice 
which  makes  perfect.  The  student,  if  he  would  possess 
skill,  must  try  his  own  'prentice  hand  until  it  becomes  a 
practiced  hand.  There  are  many  students  of  painting, 
sculpture,  and  other  arts,  who  are  not  looking  forward  to 
the  practice  of  these  arts  at  all,  but  who  pursue  them  be- 
cause they  think  the  knowledge  thus  acquired  is  useful, 
or  because  they  value  the  culture  that  they  afford. 

The  value  of  practice  or  experience  in  what  are  some- 
times called  "practical  matters"  is  well  understood;    so 

well,  indeed,  that  the  "  theory,"  as  it  is  often 
Theor^**"   mistakenly   called,   is   greatly  undervalued    in 

comparison  with  practice;  but  in  other  fields 
theory  is  sometimes   overrated.      In  moral  training,   for 


22  Till':  ART  OF  STUDY. 

example,  it  is  sometimes  assumed  that  the  great  thing  is 
the  acquirement  of  moral  ideas,  precepts,  and  rules,  or 
moral  instruction,  thus  ignoring  or  undervaluing  moral 
habits,  which  can  be  built  up  only  through  activity  or 
practice. 

What  has  been  said  of  the  arts  in  general  is  true  of  the 
art  of  study  in  particular.  The  phrase  means,  first,  per- 
The  Art  of  ^°"''^^  ^^'^^^'  °''  Practical  ability,  in  carrying  on 
study  studies,   and,   secondly,  study  as  a  subject  of 

Defined.  investigation,  consisting  of  its  own  peculiar 
method  and  rules.  The  student  illustrates  the  first  mean- 
ing of  the  art  of  study  when  he  studies  according  to  an 
intelligent  plan  some  subject,  such  as  history  or  literature  ; 
and  the  second,  when  he  seeks  by  study  to  find  out 
the  method  and  rules  of  the  art,  whether  by  his  own  im- 
mediate efYort  or  by  attending  to  the  instruction  of  a 
teacher  or  an  author.  In  this  second  sense  study  is  a 
reflective  art. 

What  has  now  been  called  art  in  the  second  or  reflective 
sense,  is  sometimes  called  theory  or  science.  This  is  a 
Reflective  great  mistake.  Theory  or  science  consists  of 
Art  and         facts  and  principles  ;   reflective  art,  of  rules  and 

Science.  i  i  » 

methods;  both  duly  organized.  The  one  an- 
swers the  questions  what  ?  and  why  ?  the  other  the  ques- 
tion how  •• 

To  the  preceding  discussion  of  study  as  an  art,  two  or 
three  observations  should  be  added. 

I.  It  is  not  necessary  that  a  student,  to  be  successful  in 
study,  should  study  his  art  in  a  formal  or  reflective  way. 

Few  good  students,  even  those  as  far  advanced 
Formal  Art.  ^^  ^^^  College,  liavc  douc  so.     These  students 

have  acquired  their  skill  in  study  by  the  prac- 
tice of  study.     It  is,  to  be  sure,  a  fair  question  whether 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY  DEFIXED. 


23 


students,  or  at  least  advanced  students,  might  not  give 
more  formal  attention  to  their  art  with  advantage  to  them- 
selves ;  but  we  shall  not  enter  upon  a  discussion  of  the 
question  in  this  place. 

2.  The  student  may  study  his  art  laboriously  and  never 
become  a  good  student ;  that   is,  never   learn    to  practice 

his  art    successfully.      Here,  as  elsewhere,  one 

Formal  Art  .        ,  ,      ,  ,  ,11  1  , 

not  Practice,  "^'^y  ^cquirc  knowledge  of  method,  rule,  and 
precept  without  acquiring  the  ability  or  skill  to 
put  it  to  use.  In  fact,  at  a  certain  stage  of  progress,  such 
knowledge  is  a  positive  disadvantage,  as  it  impedes  rather 
than  accelerates  practice.  But  the  main  fact  is  this  —  a 
pupil  will  learn  to  study  by  studying,  and  not  otherwise, 
just  as  he  will  learn  to  swim  by  swimming,  and  not  other- 
wise. 

3.  It  is  practice  and  study,  then,  and  not  simply  study, 
that  makes  one  perfect  in  an  art.     But  everything  depends 

upon  the  kind  of  practice.  Mere  mechanical 
andVoAnai  S''^"^^"S'  ^^  matter  how  long  continued,  will 
study.  never  bring  perfection.     Practice  must  be  intel- 

ligent, or  it  must  be  conducted  according  to  a  right 
method.  Now  some  happy  pupils  may,  without  great 
loss  of  time,  find  out  this  method  for  themselves,  but  the 
majority  of  pupils  will  not  be  able  to  do  so.  Ac- 
cordingly the  teacher  should  give  much  attention  to  his 
pupils'  efforts  to  learn  their  lessons,  looking  after  the 
habits  that  they  are  forming,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  assist- 
ing them  to  form  good  habits.  For  this  there  are  two 
reasons  :  one  is  that  he  will  secure  far  better  immediate 
results,  and  the  other  that  he  will  assist  the  pupils  to  ac- 
quire an  art  which  will  be  useful  through  life.  Such  work 
requires  much  oversight ;  the  teacher  must  discover  the 
pupils'  incorrect  way  of  doing  things  and  show  them  the 


24 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


correct  way,  and  by  hint,  suggestion,  and  encouragement 
hasten  them  on  their  road.  Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that 
the  teacher  may  overdo  as  well  as  underdo  ;  the  pupil,  in  a 
most  important  sense,  must  learn  to  study  for  himself, 
and  all  that  the  teacher  can  do  is  to  help  him.  In  partic- 
ular, where  assistance  takes  the  form  of  rule  and  precept, 
it  must,  to  be  effective,  be  indirect  and  incidental. 

Parallel  Reading. — Studies  in  Education,  B.  A.  Hinsdale. 
Chicago  and  New  York,  Werner  School  Book  Co.,  1896. 
Chap,  IV.     ("The  Science  and  the  Art  of  Teaching"). 


CHAPTER  IV. 

NEGLECT   OF   THE    ART   OF   STUDY. 

This  book  opens  with  the  two  statements  that  the  art 
of  study  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  arts  that  a  child  or 
a  youth  can  acquire,  and  that  it  is  nowhere  adequately 
taught.  Some  of  the  facts  that  justify  the  first  statement 
have  been  given  in  the  preceding  chapters,  and  some  of 
those  that  justify  the  second  one  will  be  given  in  this 
chapter. 

In  the  schools,  the  art  of  study  is  taught,  for  the 
most  part,  indirectly,  wholly  at  random,  and  very  im- 
Ne  lect  of  Perfectly.  No  book  or  manual  is  put  into  the 
Artof  study  pupil's  hands,  and,  if  one  were,  he  could  not 
use  it.  Furthermore,  the  ordinary  teacher 
does  not  know  how  to  teach  the  art  well,  or  even 
understand  its  importance.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  often 
he  would  not  be  able  to  set  a  very  good  example 
of  practice  or  skill  in  the  art,  if  called  upon  to  do  so. 
The  books,  articles,  and  lectures  from  which  the  teacher 
has  gained  his  own  instruction  relating  to  teaching  give 
little  attention  to  study,  at  least  under  its  own  proper 
name  and  in  a  practical  manner.  Outside  of  the  schools, 
things  arc  in  one  respect  better  than  they  arc  inside  of 
them.  The  literature  of  self-culture  treats  the  art  of 
self-culture  in  a  much  more  helpful  way  than  the  liter- 
ature of  teaching  treats  the  arts  of  study  and  of  learn- 
ing.      Unfortunately,    however,   this    literature    is    c|uite 

25 


26  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

beyond  most  of  the  pupils  in  the  schools,  and  is  not  much 
read  by  the  majority  of  teachers  themselves. 

In  consequence  of  the  general  neglect  properly  to  teach 
the  art  of  study  in  the  schools,  most  pupils  pick  up  such 
knowledge  and  skill  as  they  actually  possess.  As  a  result, 
a  large  majority  of  them  never  become  proficient  in  the 
iisDefi-  '^'^^'  '^'^^  vvhile  everybody  can  read,  we  find  so- 
cient  in  the  cicty  full  of  young  people,  and  old  people  too, 

who  have  no  power,  or  very  little,  to  carry 
on  the  investigation  of  any  subject  by  means  of  books. 
Miscellaneous  reading  for  diversion,  or  even  for  the  pur- 
pose of  obtaining  knowledge,  is  common  enough,  but  it  is 
not  study. 

Competent  judges  will  unhesitatingly  assent  to  the 
statements  that  have  just  been  made.  Moreover,  they 
Waste  of  ^^'^^  assent,  with  equal  readiness,  to  the  further 
Time  in         statement   that    multitudes    of    persons    suffer 

greatly  on  account  of  their  ignorance  of  this 
art.  In  the  schools,  particularly,  time  is  wasted,  energy 
thrown  away,  and  opportunity  lost  because  pupils  cannot 
study,  that  is,  cannot  properly  do  their  work.  Let  it  not 
be  supposed  that  these  remarks  apply  to  elementary 
schools  only,  to  which  the  name  pupil  might  seem  to 
limit  them  ;  they  apply  also,  but  in  less  degree,  to  high 
schools  and  academies  and  even  to  colleges  and  universi- 
ties. 

Notorious  facts  lend  to  these  remarks  all  needed  con- 
firmation. For  example,  one  of  the  commonest  com- 
TheTesti-  P^^ints  made  by  teachers  relative  to  their  pu- 
mony  of        pils    is    that   they  are   not    properly    prepared 

to  do  their  work.  This  complaint  is  heard 
from  the  bottom  of  the  scale  to  the  top,  and  be- 
comes louder  as  we  ascend.    It  is  loud  in  the  upper  grades 


NEGLECT  OF  THE  ART  OF  STUDY.  07 

of  the  elementary  schools,  louder  in  the  high  schools,  and 
loudest  in  the  colleges.  It  takes  on  two  forms.  One 
form  is  that  pupils  do  not  know  what  they  ought  to  know  ; 
the  other  and  more  significant  form  is  that  these  pupils 
do  not  know  how  to  study,  or  cannot  practically  do  their 
work.  The  relation  of  these  two  answers  to  each  other 
—  or  the  relation  of  positive  knowledge  to  mental  power 
and  skill  in  acquiring  knowledge  —  is  an  important  topic; 
but  for  the  present  purpose  the  one  form  of  complaint  is 
as  serious  as  the  other.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  said  that  the 
complaints  which  teachers  make  of  the  lack  of  preparation 
in  their  pupils  are  exaggerated,  and  we  can  readily  see  that 
such  may  be  the  case  ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  dispose  of 
them  all  in  that  way,  or,  indeed,  in  any  way  short  of  as- 
suming that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  behind  them. 

At  this  stage  of  the  discussion  there  occurs  the  ques- 
tion, What  is  a  reasonable  rate  of  progress  for  the  pu- 
what  is  a  P''^  ^°  make  in  school?  Or,  to  put  the  question 
Reasonable  in  another  form,  What  is  a  reasonable  require- 
progressin  mcnt  to  imposc  on  him  at  any  given  stage  of 
Schools?  his  educational  progress?  On  this  point  there 
is  some  diversity  of  both  practice  and  opinion.  It  is  well 
known  that  the  French  boy  or  the  German  boy  at  the  age  of 
eighteen  or  nineteen,  trained  in  the  schools  of  his  country 
and  looking  forward  to  the  university,  is  fully  two  years 
in  advance  of  the  American  boy  of  the  same  age  trained 
in  our  schools  and  having  a  similar  destination.  The  su- 
periority of  the  foreign  boy,  however,  must  not  be  mis- 
understood ;  it  lies  exclusively  in  the  education 
French,  and  that  is  fumislicd  by  the  schools.  In  the  broader 
American      sense   in    wliich  the  word    is  often   used  —  the 

Boys.  .     .  ,      ,  1  e 

training  and  knowledge  that  come  from  imme- 
diate contact  with  the  world — the  French  boy  or  the  Ger- 


28  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

man  boy  is  as  much   inferior  to  the  American  boy  as  he 

surpasses  him  in  scliohistic  attainments  and  abiHty.     More 

definitely,  the  American   boy,    when   he   leaves  the  high 

school,  is  much  inferior  to  the  German  boy  on  leaving  the 

gymnasium    in  two  particulars  ;   first,  the  knowledge  that 

is  directly  obtained    in    the   school,   and    second,    mental 

power.     He  is,  however,  a  little  younger.     What  is  the 

cause  of  this  disparity  ? 

For   one   thing,   the   German    and   French   boys   who 

finish  the  studies  of  the  secondary  schools  are  a   more 

carefully  selected  class  of  boys,  intellectually  considered, 

than  the  boys  who  graduate  from  our  high  schools.     A 

majority,  if  not  nearly  all  of  them,  are  in  training  for  the 

university,  while  much  the  larger  number  of  the  graduates 

from  our  high  schools  pass  at  once  into  practical  life.     For 

this  reason,  these  foreign  boys,  considered  as  scholars,  are 

superior  to  our  American  boys  who  attend  the  high  school. 

For  another  thing,  the  tension  of  the  higher  in- 
German  o'  o 

and  French  tellectual  life  is  greater  in  France  or  Germany 
sc  oo  s.  than  it  is  in  the  United  States.  Then,  the  French 
and  German  courses  of  study,  especially  in  secondary 
schools,  have  been  more  carefully  wrought  out  and  are 
better  adapted  to  their  purposes  than  our  courses  of  study. 
From  the  day  that  a  German  boy  at  the  age  of  nine 
years  enters  the  gymnasium,  he  probably  has  his  eye  fixed 
upon  the  university  or  the  technical  high  school.  This 
topic  has  attracted  much  attention  the  last  few  years  at 
the  hands  of  our  specialists,  who  have  been  seeking  at 
once  to  shorten  and  to  enrich  our  school  programmes. 
Again,  it  may  be  that  the  German  boy  or  the  French  boy, 
as  compared  with  the  American  boy,  purchases  his  scho- 
lastic superiority  at  the  cost  of  practical  knowledge  and 
ability  ;  but  it  is  plain  that  the  American  boy  might  make 


NEGLECT  OE  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


29 


more  rapid  progress  in  school  than  he  docs  without 
impairing  his  practical  talents,  and  that  there  is  urgent 
reason  why  he  should  do  so,  especially  if  he  is  looking 
forward  to  a  liberal  education  and  a  professional  career. 

Important  as  these  considerations  are,  they  do  not  fully 

answer  our  question.     When  all  has  been  said,  the  fact 

remains  that  much  of  the  "  marking  time  "  in 

German  1         1      •       1  1  ... 

Teaching,  our  schools  IS  due  to  the  relative  mcompetence 
of  teachers,  which  again  is  due  to  the  most 
patent  causes.  In  Germany,  teaching  is  a  serious  calling, 
to  be  followed  for  life;  in  the  United  States,  it  is  only 
too  often  the  vestibule  leading  to  a  calling.  Comparing 
more  closely  the  teaching  of  our  schools  with  that  of 
the  German  schools,  it  is  found  to  be  inferior  in  two 
important  particulars  :  the  knowledge  that  it  imparts, 
and  the  habits  of  mind  that  it  generates.  For  the  pres- 
ent purpose,  the  main  fact  is  this  —  the  American  boy 
does  not  know  how  to  study  as  well  as  the  German  boy, 
or  is  not  an  equal  master  of  his  art.  Pupils  in  schools 
often  "  mark  time  "  because  they  cannot  march  forward. 
The  burden  of  this  chapter  is  the  neglect  of  the  art  of 
study  in  the  schools.  In  the  first  instance,  the  fault 
Reform  to  ^^  ^^^^  fault  of  tcaclicrs.  But  why  do  teach- 
Begin  with  crs  ncglcct  this  art  ?  The  answer  is  partly  be- 
cause they  do  not  appreciate  its  value,  and 
partly  because  they  do  not  know  how  to  give  it  the 
kind  of  attention  that  it  requires.  Moreover,  this  lack 
of  appreciation  and  this  lack  of  ability  are  closely  bound 
up  together.  Practical  reform,  therefore,  must  begin 
with  the  better  preparation  of  teachers,  not  so  much, 
indeed,  in  general  scholarship  or  in  the  studies  that  they 
teach,  (which  is  an  important  topic  by  itself,)  but  in  the 
art  of  study — what  it  is,  and  how  it   must   be  taught  to 


30 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


pupils.     Mow  teachers  shall  secure  this  better  instruction 
is  a  question  that  will  come  before  us  further  on. 

Parallel  Reading. —  2'he  School  and  Society^  John  Dewey. 
Supplemented  by  a  statement  of  the  University  Elementary 
School.  Chicago,  University  of  Chicago  Press,  1899.  Educa- 
tional Reform,  Charles  William  Eliot.  New  York,  The  Century 
Co.,  1888.  Chap.  VII.  ("  Can  School  Programmes  be  Short- 
ened and  Enriched  ?  ")  Chap.  XI.  (  "  Shortening  and  Enrich- 
ing the  Grammar  School  Course  ").  Germati  Higher  Schools, 
James  E.  Russell.  New  York,  Longmans,  Green  &  Co.,  1899. 
The  Secondary  School  System  of  Gerf?iany,  Frederick  E.  Bolton. 
New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1900.  Teaching  the  Language- 
Arts,  B.  A.  Hinsdale.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1896. 
(See  remarks  in  Introduction  relative  to  American,  French,  and 
German  students). 


CHAPTER  V. 

IS  KNOWLEDGE  OR  MENTAL   DEVELOPMENT  THE  END 
OF  TEACHING? 

The  teacher  who  has  gone  carefully  through  the  fore- 
going chapters  may  think  that  he  should  now  be  brought 
to  the  consideration  of  his  own  relation,  as  a  teacher,  to 
the  art  of  study.  What  is  my  work,  my  duty  in  the 
premises?  he  will  naturally  ask.  It  is  the  main  object  of 
this  book  to  answer  this  question  ;  but  the  answer  will 
be  all  the  clearer  and  stronger  if  it  is  preceded  by  a  brief 
discussion  of  the  end  or  aim  of  education  itself. 

M.  Compayr^  notices  two  different  tendencies  in 
modern  educational  thought  and  practice.  These  tenden- 
cies appear  when  we  consider  the  question. 
Subjective      ,,,,.,  - 

and  objec-    What  IS  the  end  of  education  ?     Is  it  a  change 
tive  Ped-       ^^^^^    |.|-jg    mind    itself    undergoes,    or   is   it    a 

agogy.  o         ' 

store  of  facts  and  ideas  that  the  mind  re- 
quires? Compayr(^  states  the  question  thus:  "There 
are  those  who  wish  above  all  to  develop  the  intelligence;! 
and  there  are  others  who  are  preoccupied  with  furnishing 
the  mind  with  a  stock  of  positive  knowledge."  ^  Some 
affect  a  subjective  pedagogy,  and  others  an  objective 
pedagogy.  He  considers  Descartes  a  leading  exponent  of 
the  one  school  and  Francis  Bacon  of  the  other.  Which 
of  these  two  tendencies  is  the  true  one?  Both  views  are 
firmly  rooted  in  language  and  in  mental  habit.  The 
subjective  pedagogy    emphasizes    power    and    capacity 

1  History  of  Pedagogy,  Boston,  I).  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  1S97,  pp.  191-192. 

31 


32 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


discipline  and  training,  culture,  development,  and  growth, 
while  the  objective  pedagogy  dwells  on  ideas,  facts, 
knowledge,  truths,  science,  and  learning.  It  will  not 
be  difficult  to  maintain  Compayre's  claim  that  they 
are  both  equally  right  so  long  as  they  refrain  from 
exaggeration. 

First,   mental   discipline,  power,  culture, — call  it  what 

you  will, — is  generated  by  means  of  mental  activity  ;  while 

activity,   self-activity,  is  indeed  the  very  char- 

comes  from  actcristic  of  the  mind.     But  the  mind  acts  only 

^^l^}^\         as  it  acts  on  something:   it   cannot  act,  so  to 

Activity.  i^"  '  ' 

speak,  in  a  vacuum.  Furthermore,  the  object 
that  the  mind  acts  upon  is  an  object  of  knowledge,  and 
the  activity  itself  is  knowing.  Discipline  and  knowledge 
are  acquired  together. 

But  secondly,  knowledge  cannot  be  passively  acquired. 
Knowing  is  an  active  process.  The  very  word  "  study  " 
Knowledge  iniplies  zcal  and  thoroughness,  as  we  have 
and  Mental  seen.    The  mind    in  forming   its  earliest  ideas 

Activity.  .  ,   . 

IS  something  very  different  from  the  sensitive 
plate  in  the  camera  that  merely  receives  impressions. 
Knowledge,  then,  depends  upon  the  very  agent  that  pro- 
duces discipline  and  culture. 

So  far  the  path  is  clear.  What  difference  does  it  make, 
then,  whether  we  regard  education  as  developed  mind  or 
as  positive  knowledge  ?  This  is  the  question  that  we  are 
now  to  examine. 

It  may  be  strange,  but  it  is  true,  that  mental  develop- 
ment and  positive  attainments  are  not  mutual  measures, 
„  _,     If  they  were,  the  teacher's  problem  would  be 

Power  and  •'  _  '  ^ 

Knowledge   much  simplified.     Development  may  be  in  ex- 

Mea^ur^s!^    cess    of    attainment,   and    attainment    may  be 

in  excess  of  development.     It   is  well  known 

that  men    are   not    efficient  in  the  work    of  their  hands 


IS  KNOWLEDGE  THE  END  OF  TEACH L\G? 


33 


In  the  ratio  of  their  strength  or  effort.  The  strongest 
man  is  not  necessarily  the  best  chopper,  runner,  or 
boxer;  he  may  waste  his  strength  in  misdirected  and 
unskillful  attempts  to  accomplish  what  he  does  not  know 
how  to  do  well.  Again,  men  are  not  cfificient  in  the 
mental  sphere  in  the  ratio  of  their  natural  powers  or  of 
their  effc.ts;  some  men  do  not  know  how  to  use  their 
minds.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  those  who  suc- 
ceed, some  in  physical  and  some  in  mental  work,  beyond 
their  apparent  strength.  They  make  their  blows  tell,  work 
to  advantage,  strike  when  the  iron  is  hot,  as  we  are  all 
exhorted  to  do  by  the  well-known  prudential  maxims. 
Here  it  is  that  directive  intelligence  and  practical  skill 
come  into  play.  "  So  fight  I,"  said  St.  Paul,  "  not  as  one 
that  beateth  the  air."  The  figure  comes  from  the  boxing 
contest.  The  Apostle  strove,  metaphorically,  to  land  his 
blows  on  the  body  of  his  antagonist.  It  is  a  well- 
known  fact  that  habit  or  training  both  saves  and  increases 
power. 

In  the  schoolroom  misdirected  and  wasted  effort  is  one 
of  the  commonest  facts.  It  is  one  of  the  most  serious  of 
Misdirected  the  wastes  in  education,  of  which  so  much  is 
Energry  in     heard.     Who  that  has  seen  much  of  schools  has 

Schools.  .  1      1         ,.         •     /-    1      •        n-    •  ..  1 

not  witnessed  the  painful  inemcjency  and 
"laborious  idleness"  mentioned  by  Mr.  Mill  in  his  St. 
Andrews'  Address  as  characteristic  of  the  schools  of  Eng- 
land ?  The  sight  is  a  pathetic  one  —  that  of  the  pupil  or 
student  who  has  plenty  of  native  power,  but  who  does  not 
know  how  to  use  it  to  advantage.  The  blind  giants  that 
figure  in  stories  are  no  unfit  types  of  many  pupils  found 
in  schools  —  only  the  giants  are  generally  restrained  by 
their  blindness  from  doing  mischief,  which  is  more  than 
can  always  be  said  of  the  pupils. 

Art  of  Study. — 3. 


34  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

What,  then,  shall  be  the  teacher's  aim,  —  mental  disci- 
pline or  positive  knowledge  ?  Neither  one  to  the  exclusion 
TheQues-  o^  ^^^  Other;  on  the  contrary,  the  teacher 
tiononeof  should  Constantly  keep  his  eye  on  both  these 
mp  as  8.  ^j^ j^  from  first  to  last.  Dr.  Thomas  Arnold 
said  to  the  boys  at  Rugby:  "  You  come  here,  not  to  read, 
but  to  learn  how  to  read,"  that  is,  to  study,  for  such  is  the 
English  use  of  the  word  ;  and  Sir  William  Hamilton  told 
his  students  at  the  University  of  Edinburgh  that  his  aim 
would  be  to  teach  them,  not  philosophy,  but  to  philoso- 
phize. But  it  is  very  plain  that  the  boys  at  Rugby  could 
not  learn  how  to  read,  or  study,  as  we  should  say,  without 
reading  or  studying,  or  the  students  at  Edinburgh  learn  to 
philosophize  if  they  were  kept  ignorant  of  philosophy  ;  as 
these  distinguished  teachers  knew  perfectly  well.  The 
main  question  relates  to  emphasis,  as  so  many  educational 
questions  do.  The  teacher  should  pay  due  heed  to  the 
way  the  pupil  does  his  work,  his  mental  habits,  the  develop- 
ment of  his  mind — see,  in  a  word,  that  he  acquires  the  art 
of  study  ;  but  he  should  also  insist  upon  positive  attain- 
ments in  knowledge.  Study  is  not  "  marking  time,"  but 
it  is  marching, — getting  somewhere.  Education  is  not  a 
Barmecide  feast,  but  a  substantial  repast. 

The  teacher,  let  it  be  said  again,  must  be  careful  how 

he  places  his  emphasis.     It  was  thought  once  that  elemen- 

The  Dogma  ^^''7  education,  and  indeed  all  education,  was 

ofFormai  mainly  preparative,  a  preparation  for  further 
dscipiitic* 

study  or  for  1-eal  life.      Not  so  much  attention 

was  paid  to  the  pupil's  positive  attainments.  The  con- 
summate flower  of  this  view  of  education  was  the  dogma 
of  formal  discipline,— the  theory  that  by  pursuing  cer- 
tain studies,  as  mathematics  and  classics,  mental  energy' 
could  be   stored  up  to  be  drawn  upon  for  any  and  all 


IS  A'NOIVLEDGE  THE  EXD  OF  TEACHING  f       35 

purposes.  There  is  now  a  strong  recoil  from  this  posi- 
tion ;  knowledge,  we  are  told,  is  the  end.  This  recoil  was 
certainly  needed,  but  it  must  not  go  too  far.  It  will  cer- 
tainly  go  too  far,  however,  if  men  are  led  to  deny  the  pre- 
paratory function  of  education  and  to  lose  sight  of  the 
development  of  the  mind. 

It  is  probable  that  in  the  long  run  there  is  no  antago- 
nism, but  rather  complete  concord,  between  development 
and  knowledge,  and  that  what  is  best  for  the 

Develop-  ° 

ment  and  onc  is  bcst  for  the  Other ;  but  in  the  short  run 
Knowledge,  ^j^j^  j^  ^^^^  always,  or  indeed  generally  true. 
There  are  times,  for  example,  when  development  and 
attainment  should  not  receive  equal  emphasis.  Elemen- 
tary education  is  largely  preparatory,  looking  to  discipline, 
power,  method,  and  skill ;  it  is  largely  occupied  with  acquir- 
ing a  command  of  certain  arts,  the  perfect  use  of  which 
will  be  found  in  the  future.  But  this  is  not  true,  in  the 
same  sense,  of  university  education,  the  great  end  of 
which  is  positive  attainments  or  knowledge.  Here  the 
student  is  supposed  to  have  mastered  his  arts,  at  least 
measurably.  The  intelligent  teacher  does  not  always  look 
for  the  quickest  returns.  The  amount  of  walking  that  a 
child  does  until  he  is  two  years  old  is  no  compensation, 
in  itself,  for  the  cost  of  his  tuition  in  the  art.  It  would 
have  been  much  easier  for  his  parent  or  nurse  to  carry  him 
over  the  short  distances  that  he  has  covered  ;  but  the 
present  sacrifice  is  future  gain.  And  so  it  is  with  the 
elementary  school.     As  I  have  said  elsewhere  : 

"  To  convey  knowledge  at  first  through  reading,  strictly  speaking, 
is  impossible.  The  fact  is,  that  if  all  the  time  which  is  spent  in 
I,earnlnjf  to  teaching  the  pupil  to  read  as  a  mere  art  were  devoted 
Read.  to  enlarging  his  real  knowledge  or  mental  store  by  plying 

his  faculties  of  observation  with  objects,  and  through  conversation,  he 


36 


HIE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


would  know  more  at  the  end  of  a  year  of  school  life  than  he  now 
knows.  To  be  sure,  the  art  itself  contains  objects  of  real  knowledge, 
though  of  little  value  abstractly  considered,  and  also  confers  dis- 
cipline ;  still,  from  the  point  of  view  of  real  knowledge,  the  time  so 
spent  is  mainly  wasted.  But  this  waste  we  gladly  incur,  since  this 
incomparable  instrument  of  acquirement  when  once  gained  is  a  hun- 
dredfold compensation."  ^ 

Objective  pedagogy  has  its  own  attractions  for 
teachers,  pupils,  and  patrons  of  schools.  Holding  up 
Weakness  knowledge  as  its  end,  it  produces  results  of  a 
tive*"  iSd-**"'  tangible  character  that  can,  to  a  great  extent, 
agogy.  be  measured  out  in  examinations.     It  is  a  very 

taking  theory  to  the  practical  man,  who  rejoices  in  posi- 
tive knowledge  or  what  he  sometimes  terms  "  useful  in- 
formation." But  it  is  attended  by  one  peculiar  danger  r 
It  tends  to  foster  in  the  teacher  the  search  for  quick  re- 
turns, and  so  stimulates  the  cramming  system.  Let  a 
teacher  become  firmly  possessed  by  the  idea  that  the 
great  end  to  be  sought  in  teaching  is  increase  of  the 
pupil's  knowledge,  and,  unless  he  is  also  possessed  of 
moderation  and  self-restraint,  he  will,  if  energetic,  surely 
fall  to  cramming. 

On  the  other  hand,  subjective  pedagogy  has  its  at- 
tractions for  certain  minds.  It  is  much  affected  by 
Weakness  students  of  literature,  ancient  and  modern,  and 
jective  Ped-  ^7  Cultivators  of  philosophical  studies.  These 
agogy.  persons  tend  to  find  the  goal  of  education  in 

the  perfection  of  the  mind  itself,  not  in  the  abundance  or 
character  of  its  attainments.  The  teacher  who  takes  this 
view  has  his  own  besetting  danger,  which  is  that  sound 
ideas  and  practical  methods  will  evaporate  in  vague  no- 
tions and  inefficient  teaching.     Both  the  ignorance  and 

'  Teaching  the  Language- Arts,  N.  Y.,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.  1896,  chap.  xii. 


IS  KNOWLEDGE  THE  END  OF  TEACHING?       37 

the  indolence  of  the  teacher  may  be  veiled,  and  the  lack 
of  substantial  attainments  on  the  part  of  the  pupil  be  ex- 
cused, by  the  free  use  of  such  pleasant  words  as  "  develop- 
ment," "growth,"  and  "culture,"  In  the  latter  case  the 
implication  is  that,  although  the  pupil  may  not  learn  any- 
thing in  particular,  it  is  still  well  with  his  "  mind."  To 
some  extent  this  is  now  an  evil  in  many  schools ;  the 
pupils  are  believed  to  be  "  developed,"  or  at  least  to  be 
"  developing,"  no  matter  whether  they  know  much  or  little, 
or  whether  what  they  know  bears  any  relation  to  the 
end  they  have  in  view. 

The  conclusion  is  that  the  teacher  who  looks  directly  to 
knowledge  should  also  remember  mental  development. 
The  Two  while  the  teacher  who  looks  directly  to  mental 
Ends.  development  should  never  forget  knowledge. 

It  should  be  added  that  the  teacher  is  under  no  obliga- 
tion to  disclose  his  purpose  to  the  pupil.  To  dosoissome- 
The  Teacher  times  injurious,  and  hence  ends  must  not  unfre- 
Need  Not      qucntly  be  sought  indirectly.     This  is  particu- 

Declare    his    ^  -^        .  **  ^  ^ 

Purpose.  larly  true  in  the  moral  sphere.  Much  depends 
upon  what  the  end  is.  Knowledge  may  safely  be  held 
before  the  pupil's  mind  as  a  thing  to  be  striven  for;  but, 
as  a  rule,  little  good  will  come,  and  much  harm,  from 
similarly  holding  out  to  him  mental  development.  On 
this  point  Mr.  Latham  has  some  remarks  which  are  so 
admirable  that  I  shall  venture  to  quote  them  : 

"  There  are  some  who  think  it  possible  to  engage  the  interest  of 
young  people  in  their  own  mental  culture,  as  much  as  in  the  acquisi- 
Mr.  i,atham  tion  of  accomplishment,  etc.  ...  In  the  great  majority 
Quoted,  of  cases,  however,  entreaties  to  a  youth  to  take  earnestly 

to  a  study,  in  order  to  expand  his  mind,  are  pretty  well  thrown  away. 
A  boy  is  firmly  persuaded  that  his  mind  is  very  well  as  it  is — he  can- 
not for  the  life  of  him  understand  what  is  meant  by  its  being  expanded 
— when  you  begin  to  talk  about  studies  doing  good  to  his  mind,  he 


,8  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

takes  it  to  show  that  you  have  nothing  better  to  say  in  their  favor,  and 
that  in  reality  they  are  of  no  good.  You  will  do  more  with  him, 
usually,  by  calling  on  him  to  work  in  pure  faith  as  a  matter  of  duty, 
telling  him  that  at  that  time  he  cannot  be  made  to  see  the  good  of 
these  studies,  but  that  he  must  work,  taking  it  on  trust  that  there  is  a 
good,  and  that  you  know  what  it  is,  and  would  not  worry  him  with 
lessons  for  lessons'  sake. 

"  Sometimes  a  persuasive  teacher  will  lead  a  few  boys  in  the  uppe^ 
classes  in  a  school  to  fancy  that  they  are  interested  in  the  training  of 
their  minds.  The  result  too  often  is  that  they  are  made  self-conscious 
prigs.  They  will  tell  you  that  they  are  studying  this  and  that  to  give 
them  method,  or  accuracy,  or  a  command  of  language.  They  are  fre- 
quently discovering  peculiarities  in  their  own  mental  structure  ;  they 
will  consult  their  tutor  on  the  way  to  remedy  certain  defects  of  which 
they  are  conscious — which  defects,  by  the  way,  are  mostly  of  that  kind 
which  they  in  their  hearts  believe  to  be  only  excellencies  transformed 
— and  so  they  get  positively  injured,  either  by  the  habit  of  retrospec- 
tion in  reality,  or  by  the  affectation  of  watching  the  action  of  their 
minds,  and  by  boundless  talking  about  themselves."  ^ 

The  point  of  view  taken  in  this  chapter  is  that  of  the 
teacher  in  the  schoolroom.  It  is  assumed  that  the  end  of 
education — as  preparation  for  complete  living — has  been 
chosen  and  the  school  set  in  order  to  gain  that  end. 
This  done,  the  question  presents  itself  to  the  teacher — 
Shall  knowledge  or  (iiscipline  be  my  immediate  end  ? 

Parallel  Reading. — On  the  Correlation  of  Studies,  W.  T. 
Harris.  {Report  of  Ccrtnmittee  of  Fifteen  on  Elefnentary  Educa- 
tion). New  York,  Aroerican  Book  Company,  1895.  Studies 
in  Education, '?>.  A.  Hinsdale.  Chicago  and  New  York,  Wer- 
ner School  Book  Co.,  1896.  Chap.  II.  ("The  Dogma  of 
Formal  Dscipline").  Chap.  III.  ("  The  Laws  of  Mental  Con- 
gruence and  Energy  Applied  to  Some  Pedagogical  Problems"). 

1  Cn  the  Action  of  Exainhiations  ConsidercJ  as  a  Means  of  Selection, 
London,  George  Bell  &  Sons,  1877,  pp.  33-34- 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   FIRST    STAGE   OF    INSTRUCTION   IN   THE   ART   OF 
STUDY. 

It  was  stated   in  the   first  chapter  that  the  sole  func- 
tion of  the  teacher,  as  an    instructor,  is  to  mediate  be- 
tween the  pupil's  mind,  on  the  one  part,  and 

How  shall        ,  ,  .  ,  ,  -11111  1 

the  Teacher  the  things  that  thc  pupil  should  learn  or  know, 
Perform  his         ^.j^g   other.      He    should    either    brine:    the 

Function  ?  '^ 

things  that  arc  to  be  known  to  the  pupil, 
or  lead  the  pupil  to  the  things, — whichever  way  one  may 
prefer  to  put  it.  How  shall  the  teacher  perform  this 
function  ? 

To  answer  this  question  we  must  recall  the  distinction 
made  in  the  same  chapter  between  the  knowledge  that  re- 
sults when  the  mind  and  the  thing  are  brought 

Two  Spheres.  ,1,1,  7 

ofKnowi-  into  direct  contact,  and  the  knowledge  that 
edce  again,  j-t^guits  when  there  is  merely  a  representation  of 
the  thing,  such  as  a  report,  description,  or  picture  pres- 
ent to  the  mind.  Manifestly  there  is  a  difference  between 
knowing  Niagara  Falls  from  looking  at  it,  and  knowing  it 
through  another  person's  oral  or  written  account,  or  even 
from  a  picture.  But  there  is  a  difference  in  the  apprehen- 
sion of  things  ;  some  I  may  know  in  both  ways,  some 
only  in  one  way.  Some  external  objects  I  know  both 
directly  and  indirectly — through  my  own  faculties,  and 
through  representation  ;  but  many  more  I  can  know 
only  indirectly,  since  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  go  to  them 

39 


40  TIlR  AKT  OF  STUDY. 

or  for  them  to  be  brought  to  mc.  Perhaps  the  object 
docs  not  now  exist,  perhaps  it  is  too  distant  for  contact 
between  it  and  me  to  be  established,  and  perhaps  it  eludes 
me  owing  to  my  lack  of  cxpertness  or  skill  in  observation. 
I  cannot  directly  know  Nero's  palace  at  Rome,  because 
it  perished  long  ago,  or  the  Philippine  Islands,  because 
they  are  thousands  of  miles  distant,  or  microbes,  because 
I  am  not  a  microscopist.  Again,  internal  objects,  or  the 
states  of  my  own  mind,  I  know  only  directly  through 
consciousness;  no  one  can  report  these  objects  to  me 
faithfully,  because  no  one  but  myself  really  knows  them. 
There  are,  then,  two  great  spheres  of  knowledge,  the 
first-hand  and  the  second-hand.  Next,  it  must  be  observed 
_     .,  that    education    must     move    in     both    these 

Teaching 

Moves  in  Spheres.  The  child  first  learns  things  directly, 
Bothspheres.^^j  SO  knows  them  for  himself;  he  is  an  origi- 
nal investigator  and  discoverer,  using  his  own  eyes,  ears, 
and  other  senses  in  acquiring  sensations,  and  his  own 
faculties  of  mind  in  working  these  sensations  up  into 
ideas.  Such  knowledge  is  the  first  that  the  child  ac- 
quires. What  is  more,  in  the  earlier  period  of  a  child's  life, 
all  that  a  second  person  can  do  to  promote  the  knowing 
process  is  through  the  selection  and  presentation  to  him 
of  appropriate  objects;  explanations  he  will  not  under- 
stand. But  soon  the  child  begins  to  learn  at  second-hand  ; 
that  is,  he  begins  to  know  things  through  the  accounts 
that  others  give  him,  instead  of  the  things  themselves. 
These  accounts  he  understands  through  his  stock  of  facts 
and  ideas  gained  at  first-hand.  Second-hand  knowledge 
is,  therefore,  supplementary  to  first-hand  knowledge. 
What  the  individual  can  learn  directh',  for  himself,  is  not 
enough  to  answer  his  purposes.  Besides,  he  can  learn 
many  things  much  better,  and   more   quickly,  indirectly 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  IN  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


41 


from  others  than  he  can  learn  them  directly  for  himself ; 
while  through  oral  communication  with  others,  through 
the  newspaper,  the  magazine,  the  book,  and  the  library, 
he  can  recnforce  his  meager  but  invaluable  store  of  facts, 
ideas,  and  thoughts  by  drawing  upon  the  vast  store  that 
the  race  has  been  some  thousands  of  years  in  accumulat- 
ing. In  this  way  the  feeble  individual  arms  himself  with 
the  might  of  the  human  race. 

Let  us  next  inquire  how  all  this  affects  the  work  of  the 

teacher.     The  child  comes  to  school  with  his  own  little 

stock  of  facts,  ideas,  and  thoughts  of  men  and 

The  Child  on  '  >  & 

coming  to  things,  somc  of  them  received  at  first-hand, 
School.  some  at  second-hand,  and  some  partly  in  one 

way  and  partly  in  the  other.  His  mind  is  growing  in 
both  of  the  two  spheres  of  knowledge,  but  more  rapidly 
in  the  first  than  in  the  second  sphere.  He  has  as  yet  no 
other  means  of  communicating  with  the  store  of  collect- 
ive knowledge  or  thought  than  oral  language.  This,  it 
may  be  observed,  is  a  fortunate  circumstance,  since  the 
tendency  and  effect  of  it  is  to  keep  first-hand  knowledge 
well  in  advance.  Still,  the  normal  child  is  eager  to  learn 
new  things  indirectly;  he  docs  not  soon  tire  of  pic- 
tures and  stories  of  things  and  scenes  that  touch  in  any 
way  his  own  experience. 

The  simple   facts  that  have  just  been   told   determine 

the  work  of  the  teacher  as  a  mediator  between  the  child 

and  objects  of  knowledge.     He  is  to  promote. 

The  Teach-  r  ^ 

er's  Double  ^'^  bcst  he  Can,  the  child's  mental  advance- 
D«ty.  ment   in   both   spheres  of    knowledge.     More 

definitely,  he  will,  through  object  lessons  and  nature 
teaching,  assist  the  child  to  increase  his  stock  of 
object  knowledge,  or  to  come  into  closer  relation  with 
the  external  world ;  while  through  tales,  stories,  and  ex- 


42  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

planations  he  will  help  the  child  to  increase  his  second- 
hand knowledge  and  so  bring  him  into  fuller  communion 
with  the  experience  of  the  race. 

The  first  of  these  duties  devolving  upon  the  teacher 
lies  outside  of  our  proper  field,  and  so  will  not  occupy 
^^   «..    i       our  attention  save  incidentally  ;  but  it  should 

The  First  ^   ' 

Duty  not  In-  not  be  dismissed  until  one  strong  note  of 
study.  "  warning  has  been  sounded.  The  teacher  must 
not  suppose  that  he  has  nothing  to  do  in  the  direction 
of  teaching  real  knowledge.  Entrance  into  the  school 
should  not  mark  a  sudden  change  or  break  in  the  child's 
mental  life.  Mental  growth  in  the  second  sphere  depends 
intimately  upon  the  growth  in  the  first  sphere.  Accord- 
ingly, the  pupil's  mental  life  should  not  be  allowed  to 
starve  and  dry  up  at  the  roots. 

The  teacher's  main  duty  embraces  two  processes.  The 
first  of  these  is  the  oral  communication  of  knowledge, 
which  assumes  the  well  known  form  of  explanations  of 
objects  that  are  present,  and  of  reports  of  objects  that 
are  absent.  Oral  instruction  is  the  easiest,  quickest,  and 
cheapest  way  in  which  much  knowledge  can  be  acquired, 
and  the  best  way  also,  provided  it  is  properly  correlated 
with  real  things,  on  the  one  hand,  and  books  on  the  other. 
If  we  consider  the  present  only,  we  must  certainly  agree 
with  Dr.  Bain's  statement  of  the  case. 

"  Undoubtedly,  the  best  of  all  ways  of  learning  anything  is  to  have 

a  competent  master  to  dole  out  a  fixed  quantity  every  day,  just  suffi- 

■^     „  ,  cient  to  be  taken  in,  and  no  more ;  the  pupils  to  apply 

Dr.  Bain  on  '  r    r  rr  y 

Oral  Teach-  themselves  to  the  matter  so  imparted,  and  to  do  nothing 
ing'  else.     The  singleness  of  aim  is  favorable  to  the  greatest 

rapidity  of  acquirement ;  and  any  defects  are  to  be  left  out  of  account, 
until  one  thread  of  ideas  is  firmly  set  in  the  mind.  Not  unfrequently, 
however,  and  not  improperly,  the  teacher  has  a  text-book  in  aid  of  his 
oral  mstructions.     To  make  this  a  help,  and  not  a  hindrance,  demands 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  IN  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


43 


the  greatest  delicacy  ;  the  sole  consideration  being  that  the  pupil  must 
be  kept  in  one  single  line  of  thought,  and  never  be  required  to  com- 
prehend on  the  same  point  conflicting  or  varying  statements."  * 

The  other  teaching  process  is  to  put  books  into  the 
pupil's  hand  and  show  him  how  to  use  them.  They 
are  the  great  repositories  of  the  knowledge  that 
to  Teach  the  the  race  has  accumulated.  The  meaning  of 
language-  ^hig  jg  that  the  teacher  much  teach  the  pupil  to 
read  and  write.  Time  was  when  to  teach  these 
elementary  arts  was  thought  to  be  almost  the  sole  func- 
tion of  the  primary  school ;  nor  is  it  an  exaggeration  to 
call  it  now  the  most  important  function  of  that  school. 
For  the  child,  reading  is  the  primary  school  art. 

Strictly  speaking,  the  pupil's  first  lessons  in  reading  are 
also  his  first  lessons  in  study,  as  we  are  using  that  word. 
The  First  Reading,  however,  is  of  two  kinds,  or  the  word 
i<e8son  In  jg  understood  in  two  ways.  To  teach  a  child  to 
First  also  in  read,  in  the  first  sense,  is  to  teach  him  the  tech- 
study,  nical  art  that  bears  this  name — to  teach  the 
mechanical  apparatus  of  letters,  words,  sentences,  and  punc- 
tuation by  which  thought  is  conveyed  ;  or  it  is  to  put  into 
the  pupil's  hand  the  key  that  unlocks  the  printed  page,  the 
book,  and  the  library.  But  in  the  second  and  higher  sense, 
teaching  a  pupil  to  read  consists  in  showing  him  how  to 
use  this  key  in  unlocking  these  mysteries.  The  distinc- 
tion is  the  same  as  that  between  any  tool  and  the  prac- 
tical use  of  the  tool.  Fundamentally,  then,  the  art  of 
study  is  the  same  thing  as  the  art  of  reading,  as  was  ex- 
plained in  an  earlier  chapter.  The  teacher's  practical 
question  is  how  to  teach  reading  in  that  intensive  sense 
which  constitutes  study.  We  are  not  here  concerned  with 
the  technical  aspects  of  the  subject. 

1  Practical  Essays,  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1884,  p.  218. 


^^  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  term  "art"  is  used  in 

two  senses,  —  skill  in  some  kind  of  activity  or  practice, 

and  the  method  to  which  skill  conforms.  Hence 

The  Art  of    j^j      ^^^  ^j  study  is  either  skill  in  study  or  it  is 

study  In-  J  ■' 

voives  skm  the  method  of  study.  Complete  mastery  of 
and  Method,  ^j^^  art  involves  both  elements,  and  so  would 
complete  instruction  in  the  art.  If  a  good  teacher  were  to 
direct  a  boy  through  his  whole  course  of  study  from  the 
first  primary  grade  to  graduation  from  college,  he  would 
teach  him  both  elements.  But  in  what  order  would  he 
teach  them?  The  answer  to  this  question,  while  plain 
enough,  is  still  sometimes  mistaken. 

How  did  all  the  simple  arts  originate?  Obviously,  in 
practice  or  doing,  and  not  in  rules  or  formal  method. 
Historically,  the  race  bleached  cloths,  tanned 
the  Arts.  hides,  constructed  shelters  for  themselves  and 
ornamented  these  shelters,  and  fought  battles 
before  they  thought  of  the  rules  relating  to  these  arts. 
And  so  with  the  individual  man ;  he  walks,  talks,  and 
sings  before  he  knows  anything  about  the  appropriate 
rules  or  formal  methods.  The  child  cannot  at  first  un- 
derstand or  reduce  to  practice  even  the  simplest  rules.  He 
learns  to  talk  by  talking,  to  \valk  by  w'alking,  to  sing  by 
singing;  that  is,  using  the  faculties  with  which  Nature 
has  endowed  him,  he  imitates  the  similar  actions  that  he 
sees  his  seniors  perform. 

Consider  how  it  is  with  the  technique  of  reading. 
There  is  an  extensive  body  of  rules  relating  to  this  art, — 
The  Tech-  T^les  for  the  sounds  of  letters,  for  inflections 
nique  of  and  slidcs,  for  accent  and  emphasis,  for  artic- 
ng.  ulation  and  pronunciation,  for  pauses  and 
modulation.  Now  what  does  the  teacher  who  teaches  a 
child  to  read  do  with  all  this  apparatus?    Why,  he  simply 


THE  FIRST  STAGE  IN  THE  ART  OF  STUDY.        45 

turns  his  back  upon  it.  He  calls  the  child  to  a  chart  con- 
taining a  few  simple  words  and  sentences,  or  to  a  black- 
board on  which  he  writes  the  lessons  as  they  are  required. 
Or,  he  puts  a  primer  into  the  child's  hand,  and  begins  to 
exercise  him  in  the  simplest  elements  of  the  art.  The 
teacher  sets  an  example  here  and  corrects  a  fault  there ; 
he  gives  a  few  simple  directions,  but  no  rules  until  the 
work  is  far  advanced.  Thus  the  child  learns  to  read  by 
reading.  In  course  of  time  he  may  learn  the  formal 
method  of  reading  or  he  may  not;  but  it  is  very  clear 
that  he  will  learn  to  read  well,  if  he  ever  learns  at  all,  be- 
fore he  knows  much  about  rules  and  method- 

The  Child       . 

i,earn8  to      ized  procedure.     Suppose  this  sensible  practice 

Readby        were  reversed  —  that  the  child  were  required  to 
Reading.  ^ 

learn  the  rules  before  he  learned  to  read  — 
what  would  happen?  This,  unmistakably,  that  his  prog- 
ress would  be  greatly  retarded,  if,  indeed,  he  ever  learned 
to  read  at  all.  Reading  is  a  consummate  art,  which  the 
child  learns  by  practice  under  intelligent  direction.  And 
so  it  is  with  the  art  of  study.  The  child  learns  how  to 
learn  by  actually  learning,  and  how  to  study  by  actually 
studying  ;  he  cannot  acquire  the  art  in  any  other  way.  In 
this  first  stage,  instruction  in  the  art  must  run  in  the  line 
of  the  pupil's  work,  —  it  must  blend  with  the  daily  exer- 
cises  of  the  school. 

What,  then,  is  the  teacher's  function  at  this  stage  of 
the  child's  education  ?  Obviously,  to  help  the  pupil  to 
-jjie  study  or  to  learn.     He  is  not  to  conceive  of 

Teacher's  lijj^  duty  as  being  accomplished  when  he  as- 
signs lessons  and  hears  them  recited.  On  the 
other  hand,  these  things  at  first  do  not  properly  enter 
into  his  duty  at  all. 

The  teacher  is  to  help  the  pupil  to  learn  his  lesson  by 


46 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


explaining  its  language,  by  correlating  it  with  his  previous 
lessons  and  general   knowledge,  and    by    illus- 

The  Teacher  ..,  ,  .,  iittiii 

to  Help  the  tratuig  it  from  the  outside  world.  He  should 
Pupil  to  j^qj.  gQ  much  work  for  the  pupil  as  work  with 
him.  He  should  guide  him,  not  by  directing 
him  to  go  forward,  but  by  leading  him  forward.  He 
should  not  fall  to  lecturing  him  on  the  art,  but  see  that 
he  actually  practices  it,  and  practices  it  in  the  proper  way. 
The  teacher  may,  indeed,  drop  a  hint  here  and  offer  a  sug- 
gestion there  that  is  taken  from  formal  method,  but  noth- 
ing more  at  this  stage  of  progress.  The  reflective  or  formal 
art  of  study  belongs  to  a  later  stage  of  development. 
Talking  about  the  art  of  study  is  no  more  teaching  a 
young  pupil  the  art  than  lectures  about  gymnastics  will 
make  an  athlete.  Habit  comes  from  practice.  There  are 
indeed  rules  that  apply  to  studies  at  this  stage  of  knowl- 
edge ;  these  the  teacher  should  understand,  and  also  see 
that  the  pupil  observes  them  as  far  as  possible,  but  he 
should,  for  the  most  part,  keep  them  to  himself.  He 
should  teach  according  to  method,  but  not  teach  method. 

Parallel  Reading. — Common  Sense  in  Education  and 
Teaching,  P.  A.  Barnett.  New  York,  Longmans,  Green  &  Co., 
1899.  Chap.  II.  ("  The  Influence  of  Character").  Chap.  VI. 
("Audible  Speech").  The  Limits  of  Oral  Teaching,  John  W, 
Dickinson.  Syracuse,  C.  W,  Bardeen,  1890.  Teachifig  the 
Language- Arts,  B,  A.  Hinsdale.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  & 
Co.,  1896.  Chap.  VII.  ("The  Language-Arts  in  the  Lower 
Grades  "). 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  child's  first  CONTACT  WITH  THE  BOOK. 

The  child  that  we  have  in  view  comes  to  school  at  the 
age  of  five  or  six  years  not  knowing  how  to  read.  The 
Teaching  book  is  Hiore  of  a  mystery  to  him  than  an  As- 
the  Pupil  to  Syrian  inscription  would  be  to  the  common 
laborer.  He  cannot  study  the  book  because 
he  cannot  read  it,  and  he  cannot  learn  to  read  it  without 
a  teacher. 

The  teacher  understands  his  task  and  sets  about  it ;  he 
works  with  the  pupil.  There  is,  in  the  ordinary  school- 
room sense,  no  study  and  no  recitation,  but  a  single  homo- 
geneous exercise  that  is  compounded  of  both.  The 
pupil  is  trying  to  learn  the  mechanism  of  the  printed 
page,  or  the  technical  art  of  reading,  and  also  to  grasp  the 
meaning  that  this  mechanism  conveys.  The  teacher,  on 
his  side,  does  the  best  he  can  to  assist  the  pupil  in  both 
endeavors.  No  matter  what  the  method  may  be, — al- 
phabetic, word,  or  phonic, — such  is  the  process  in  all 
schools. 

We  have  here  exemplified  the  art  of  teaching  in  its 
simplest  and  purest  form  ;  two  minds  are  active  over  the 
The  Pure  same  matter,  one  striving  to  learn,  the  other  to 
Tel^rl  teach.  It  is  the  type  of  all  teaching  before  the 
invention  of  writing  and  the  composition  of 
books.  Then  instruction  was  direct  and  personal,  ad- 
dressed either  to  a  single  mind  or  to  a  group   of  minds. 

47 


48 


1HI-:  ART  OF  STUDY. 


Ikit  the  introduction  of  books  brought  changes.  For 
one  thing,  it  tended  to  put  the  sources  of  knowledge 
and  the  teacher  farther  away  from  the  pupil  than  they  had 
been  ;  and,  for  another  thing,  it  ushered  in  the  art  of  study. 
Perhaps  the  statement  should  be  limited  by  the  qualifica- 
tion that  it  was  the  original  or  primary  sources  of  knowl- 
edge that  were  now  removed  farther  away  from  the  pupil. 
There  had  been  learning  from  the  time  when  minds  and 
the  world  were  first  brought  into  contact,  but  there  had 
been  no  study,  in  our  sense  of  the  term,  previous  to  the 
invention  of  reading  and  writing.  Dr.  Bain  is  quite  right 
when  he  says  that  our  art  "  began  when  books  began  ; 
when  knowledge  was  reduced  to  language,  and  laid  out 
in  verbal  compositions."  The  farther  removal  of  the 
sources  of  knowledge  and  the  teacher  from  the  learner,  were 
disadvantages  that  have  never  been  wholly  removed  to 
this  day  ;  but,  fortunately,  they  have  been  far  more  than 
compensated  for  by  the  great  blessings  that  books  have 
conferred  upon  men. 

In  this  early  stage  of  instruction  the  teacher  understands 
his  business,  and,  we  will  say,  performs  it  in  a  satisfactory 
The  Pa  -  manner.  He  teaches  the  pupil  to  read.  The 
sage  from  trouble  begins,  however,  when  the  pupil  has 
to^suid^  learned  to  read  his  reading  lesson,  or  his 
reader,  and  when  other  books,  as  an  elementary 
geography  and  arithmetic,  are  put  into  his  hands.  In  one 
sense  the  trouble  antedates  this  stage  in  the  pupil's  prog- 
ress. That  is,  the  simple  homogeneous  work  of  the 
primary  class,  which  ran  along  one  line,  early  began  to 
divide  into  two  lines  of  work,  one  of  them  called  study 
and  the  other  teaching,  or  the  lesson  and  the  recitation. 
The  division  was  not  sharp  at  first,  but  it  became  sharper 
as  time  went  on  ;  the  pupil  and  the  teacher  began  to  sep- 


THE  CHILD'S  CONTACT  WITH  THE  BOOK.         49 

arate  slightly  at  the  very  moment  when  the  teacher  gave 
the  pupil  work  to  be  done  at  his  desk,  or,  as  the  phrase  is, 
set  him  a  lesson  to  prepare  for  recitation.  Now  this  dif- 
ferentiation is  quite  in  the  nature  of  things  and  is  alto- 
gether right  and  necessary.  The  pupil  must  learn  to  work 
by  himself  independently  ;  this  is  the  very  core  of  the  art 
of  study ;  and  he  can  learn  to  do  such  work  only  by 
doing  it.  He  will  never  become  an  independent  student 
without  abundant  practice  of  this  kind.  In  fact,  the  pupil 
and  the  teacher  must  move  on  lines  more  or  less  divergent 
from  an  early  period  in  the  child's  school  life,  until 
they  finally  separate,  but  they  ought  not  to  diverge  too 
rapidly  or  separate  too  quickly.  Let  us  see  how  it  was 
in  the  old-fashioned  district  school  that  is  sometimes 
praised  with  little  discrimination. 

In  that  school,  in  the  first  place,  there  were  no  proper 
books  for  teaching  reading,  no  graded  series  of  readers, 
„     ..      .      such  as  are  now  found   in  every  schoolhouse. 

Reading:  in  ^ 

the  Old  The  pupil  learned  his  letters,  his  a-b, — abs,  his 
School.  words  and  short  sentences,  in  the  spelling  book, 
and  was  then  hurried,  perhaps  to  the  New  Testament, 
and  next  to  the  English  Reader.  Up  to  the  point  when  the 
pupil  could  read  his  short  sentences  in  the  speller,  the 
teacher  worked  with  him,  but  now  the  work  suddenly 
divided  into  the  lesson  and  the  recitation.  The  pupil  could 
stumble  along  his  own  way  ;  a  lesson  was  assigned  him  to 
prepare,  and,  this  done,  he  was  called  up,  either  in  class, 
or  by  himself,  to  read.  In  the  recitation  he  received  more 
or  less  help  on  the  mechanical  side ;  he  was  drilled  in  the 
sounds  of  letters,  corrected  in  pronunciation  and  accent, 
and  practiced  in  articulation  and  inflection;  he  heard  his 
classmates,  schoolfellows,  and  the  teacher  read,  and 
learned  something  from  them  through  imitation.  But  the 

Art  of  Study. — 4. 


50  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

thoi.ght  side,  or  the  reading  proper,  was  greatly  neglected. 
Sometimes  there  were  formal  exercises  in  defining  words, 
but  the  definitions  were  commonly  synonyms  or  strings 
of  words  that  took  little  hold  of  reality. 

In  arithmetic  the  teacher  gave  the  pupil  some  instruc- 
tion in  the  fundamental  rules,  and  then  practically  aban- 
doned him  to  his  fate.  Henceforth  the  pupil, 
In  the  Old  o"  coming  to  a  new  subject,  first  looked  up 
School.  "  the  rule  ;  "  then  he  began,  in  the  most  me- 
chanical fashion,  to  "  do  his  sums,"  as  working  the  ex- 
amples and  problems  was  called.  If  he  could  get  on 
alone,  well ;  but  if  not,  he  called  upon  the  teacher,  who 
explained  the  rule  or  did  the  sum,  generally  in  a  purely 
mechanical  manner.  "  To  cipher  through  the  book " 
was  a  notable  achievement  and  considered  quite  equal  to 
mastering  arithmetic. 

So  the  pupil  brought  his  geography  to  the  school- 
house,  and,  perhaps  without  any  conference  with  the 
Oeography    tcachcr,  fell   to   memorizing   the    first    lesson. 

in  the  Old  ^ 

School.  After  the  first  recitation  the  teacher  assigned 
the  lessons,  always  in  the  order  in  which  they  stood 
in  the  book.  The  recitations  consisted  of  dreary  lists  of 
questions  and  equally  dreary  answers.  The  pupil  gave, 
from  memory,  definitions  of  the  leading  terms,  located 
countries  and  bodies  of  water,  described  rivers  and  moun 
tains,  named  capitals  and  other  important  cities,  bounded 
states,  and  produced  a  variety  of  statistical  information 
relating  to  distances,  areas,  latitude  and  longitude,  popu- 
lation, etc.  The  total  result,  if  the  pupil  had  a  good 
memory,  was  a  collection  of  facts  more  or  less  valuable  in 
themselves,  but  wholly  undigested  and  furnishing  in  no 
sense  a  correct  and  lively  picture  of  the  earth  or  of  any 
portion  of  the  earth.     If  the  pupil  failed  to  find  a  lake  or 


THE  CHILD'S  CONTACT  WITH  THE  BOOK. 


51 


town  on  his  map  to-day,  he  was  told  "  to  hunt  it  up  "  to- 
morrow. Indeed,  the  study  of  geography  consisted 
largely  of  "  hunting  up  things  "  that  were  of  no  earthly 
consequence  to  the  pupil  when   they   had   been  found. 

Again,  the  pupil  brought  to  the  schoolhouse  his  copy- 
book, his  ink  bottle,  and  his  goose  quills;  the  teacher  set 
his  copies  and  made  his  pens  ;  and  this  was  often  prac- 
tically all  the  help  that  the  pupil  received. 

It  was  much  the  same  way  with  the  other  studies.  The 
best  work  was  perhaps  done  in  spelling,  because  spell- 
It  of  ^"S  "^^^s  the  most  mechanical.  There  were 
the  Regi-  tcachcrs  and  teachers  in  those  days,  as  there 
^^^'  are  now,  but   intelligent  survivors  of  that  dis- 

mal period  will  hardly  deny  that  the  foregoing  account 
of  the  old  district  school  is  typically  correct.  There  was 
much  study,  provided  only  the  student  had  ability  and 
ambition,  and  could  get  enough  incidental  help,  at  home 
and  in  school,  to  set  him  on  his  feet ;  but  there  was  little 
teaching.  On  the  whole,  one  is  rather  surprised  that  the 
pupils  learned  as  much  as  they  did  learn.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed, in  fact,  that  some  of  them  did  exceptionally  well. 
Those  who  had  strong  intellects  and  determined  wills, 
being  thrown  upon  their  own  resources,  developed  their  re- 
served strength  and  became  independent  students.  But  it 
is  pathetic,  even  at  this  distance  of  time,  to  recall  the  boys 
and  girls  who  never  learned  how  to  study  and  never  got 
beyond  the  merest  rudiments  of  an  education.  Some  of 
them  never  even  learned  to  read  with  much  intelligence, 
and  as  for  arithmetic,  which  was  the  other  leading  study, 
they  acquired  little  more  than  the  elementary  operations 
and  were  by  no  means  proficient  in  them.  The  old  dis- 
trict school  was  of  great  value,  but  in  studying  this  chap- 
ter of   educational  history  the  student  must    not  allow 


52  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

himself  to  be  misled  by  the  sentiment  that  has  grown 
up  around  the  "  little  red  schoolhouse." 

The   old   school  illustrates,  in  an   exaggerated    degree, 

one    trouble    with    the    new   school :    the  pupil  and  the 

teacher   are    not    properly    adjusted     to    each 

Separation  .  . 

of  Teacher  Other,  and  especially  from  the  time  the  pupil 
and  Pupil,     j^  ^i^^g  ^Q  ^gg  j^jg    ^jqqI^      p^pjl    ^^^    teacher 

start  out  together  on  the  same  road,  hand  in  hand. 
Soon  their  paths  begin  to  divide,  and  the  two  companions 
to  separate  ;  and  this  process  goes  on  until  they  part 
company.  For  the  larger  part  of  the  time  that 
they  are  together  in  the  school  they  meet  and  touch 
hands,  perhaps,  only  at  the  assignment  and  the  recita- 
tion of  the  lessons.  This  system  may  properly  be  set  up 
as  a  distant  goal,  but  it  has  no  place  in  the  early  stages 
of  education.  What  the  pupil  needs  when  books  are  put 
in  his  hands  as  sources  of  knowledge,  is  that  the  teacher 
shall  go  along  with  him  and  help  him  to  use  them. 
What  he  frequently  receives  is  a  set  lesson  in  a  book, 
which  perhaps  interests  him  but  little,  but  which  he  must 
learn  and  then  recite.  He  receives  little  or  no  help 
when  he  most  needs  it ;  the  person  who  should  help  him 
to  learn  his  lesson  really  hears  him  recite  it,  or  so  much  of 
it  as  he  learns  himself.  He  asks  for  bread  and  is  given 
a  stone. 

I  am  not  unaware  that  important  changes  have  been 
made  in  the  schools  since  the  "  good  old  times,"  as  they 
Changes  in  '^^^  affectionately  called.  Instruction  is  far 
the  School,  less  abstract  and  far  more  concrete  and  real  than 
it  was  fifty  years  ago.  In  good  schools  such  subjects  as 
primary  geography  and  arithmetic  are  first  presented  in 
oral  lessons,  so  that  the  pupil  is  not  wholly  ignorant  of  the 
subject  when  he  first  takes  up  the  book.     It  is  also  true 


THE  CHILD'S  COXTACT  WITH  THE  BOOK: 


53 


that  good  teachers  work  with  their  pupils,  showing  them 
how  to  use  their  books.  Nor  am  I  forgetting  that,  as  a  rule, 
the  most  skillful  teaching  to-day  is  found  in  the  primary 
schools.  But  to  ingraft  book  instruction  on  oral  teach- 
ing is  a  delicate  art,  and  no  one  can  claim  that  the  teachers 
in  our  schools  have  generally  mastered  it.  Sometimes 
the  transition  is  too  abrupt,  too  little  help  being  given; 
then,  again,  the  help  that  is  rendered  is  given  in  such 
a  manner  as  to  engender  the  continued  dependence  of  the 
pupil  upon  the  teacher. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  said  that  the  plan  here  recommended 
will  create,  or  tend  to  create,  in  the  pupil  constant  depend- 
The Teach-  cnce  upon  the  teacher;  that  we  have  too 
er'sHeip      much  Combination  work  at  present  rather  than 

Need  not  Be-  .  .       ,     *^ 

get  Depend-  too  little  ;  and  that  this  is  the  very  source  of 
ence.  ^j^^  weakness  in  study  and  learning  that  marks 

the  schools  at  the  present  time.  There  may  well  be  too 
much  help  as  well  as  too  little.  Moreover,  the  present 
trouble  in  the  best  schools  is  not  that  too  much  help 
or  too  little  help  is  given,  but  that  it  is  not  rendered 
in  the  right  way.  Weakness  and  dependence  are  not 
necessary  accompaniments  of  the  assistance  that  the 
teacher  renders  the  pupil ;  on  the  other  hand,  such  assist- 
ance, if  given  in  the  right  manner  and  measure,  will  rather 
engender  strength  and  independence.  The  main  difficulty 
at  present  is  that  teachers  do  not  so  much  work  with  the 
pupil  as  w'ovkfor  him,  which  is  fatal  to  good  habits  of 
study  and  to  good  scholarship.  The  teacher's  function  is 
not  to  fill  up  the  pupil  with  knowledge  as  a  demijohn  is 
filled  with  water,  but  to  enlist  his  faculties  actively,  and  to 
guide  them  wisely,  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  The 
late  General  F.  A.  Walker,  in  his  celebrated  Address  on 
Arithmetic  in  the  Boston  Schools,  said  • 


54  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

"  The  notion  that  exercises,  either  mental  or  physical,  prescribed 
for  young  children,  should  be  often  up  to  the  full  limit  of  their  powers, 
and  should  at  times  exceed  those  powers,  is  distinctly  false.  The  true 
gymnastic  for  the  growing  child  is  through  exercises  easy  and  pleas- 
ant, which  lead  insensibly  up  to  ever  higher  planes  of  attainment,  as 
the  faculties  are  expanded  and  strengthened,  according  to  their  own 
law  of  growth,  through  gentle  and  agreeable  exercise.  Wherever 
fatigue,  confusion,  and  the  sense  of  strain  begin,  there  the  virtue  of 
the  exercise  ceases,  whether  for  promoting  the  growth  of  the  powers 
or  for  the  training  and  disciplining  of  the  powers  as  they  exist.  Loss 
and  waste — it  may  be  much,  it  may  be  little — begin  at  this  point,  and 
go  forward,  from  this  point,  at  a  constantly  accelerating  ratio."  i 

Parallel  Reading. — Lectures  on  Teaching,  Sir  J.  G.  Fitch. 
New  York,  E.  L.  Kellogg  &  Co.,  1886.  Chap.  VII.  ("  Prepar- 
atory Training").  Chap.  IX.  ("  The  English  Language"). 
Teaching  the  Language- Arts ^  B.  A.  Hinsdale.  New  York,  D. 
Appleton  &  Co.,  1896.     Chaps.  IV.,  V.,  VI. 

'  Discussions  in  Education.  New  York,  Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  1899,  PP« 
251-252. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE   STUDY-RECITATION. 

The  two  words  "  lesson  "  and  "  recitation  "  are  so 
closely  associated  in  the  minds  of  teachers  and  pupils 
that  either  one  almost  necessarily  suggests  the  other. 
Nor  is  it  easy  to  define  either  word  without  referring  to 
the  other. 

The  first  definition  of  "  lesson  "    is  anything  read    or 

recited  by  a   pupil    or  learner,    as    a   portion    of  a   book 

assigned   to   a  pupil    to  be   studied  or  learned 

The  Word  ^  ,  J.,    '^  ,  ,  ,        t        • 

"i,e88on.'»  at  one  time.  1  he  word  comes  from  the  Latm 
legcre,  to  read,  and  suggests  at  once  the  art  of 
study,  as  that  art  has  been  defined  in  the  third  chapter 
of  this  work.  Not  all  the  definitions  of  lesson,  how- 
ever, involve  the  idea  of  reading  or  the  idea  of  a  book, 
but  they  all  do  involve  the  idea  of  something  to  be 
learned  through  effort.  Still,  the  word  suggests  a  book  to 
the  pupil,  andT  shall  still  continue  to  regard  the  lesson 
as  a  portion  of  a  book  assigned  to  a  pupil  to  be  learned 
at  one  time,  or  at  least  as  a  portion  of  knowledge  that  is 
assigned  with  reference  to  a  book.  Much  of  what  will  be 
said,  however,  is  just  as  true  of  other  lessons  that  are  not 
taken  from  a  book. 

The  school  definition  of  "  recitation  "  is  the  rehearsal  of 
a  lesson  by  a  pupil  to  his  instructor.  The  word  is  com- 
posed of  the  Latin  re,  again,  and  citarc,  to  tell  or  to  say, 
and   means,  according   to  its   etymology,    to  tell  or  say 

55 


56  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

something  a  second  time.  In  the  case  of  a  pupil,  the 
first   telHng  or  saying  occurs,   or   is  supposed  to   occur, 

when  he  prepares  his  lesson.  Frequently  the 
"Recita-  word  is  used  in  a  wider  sense  to  denote  any 
tion."  teaching  exercise  in  which  both  the  pupil  and 

the  teacher  take  part.  But,  properly  speaking,  the  word 
implies  previous  preparation,  and  so  is  much  narrower  in 
its  application  than  teaching.  Socrates'  conversational 
discussions  and  Jesus'  similar  teachings,  while  both 
highly  educative,  were  in  no  real  sense  either  lessons  or 
recitations. 

The  two  words  are  then   correlative,  and  the  two  proc- 
esses supplement  one  another.     The  lesson  looks  forward 

to  the  recitation  ;  the  recitation  backward  to  the 

The  two 

Words  Cor-  Icssou.  In  their  strict  sense  the  two  words 
relative.  mark  the  completion  of  the  process  by  which 
the  original  homogeneous  work  of  the  school,  which  was 
learning  on  the  one  side  and  teaching  on  the  other,  has 
evolved  into  the  study  and  the  recitation  of  a  portion 
of  a  book  in  which  the  pupil  and  the  teacher  touch  each 
other  only  at  two  points  ;  that  is,  at  the  assignment  and  at 
The  Differ-  the  recitation  of  the  lesson.  That  this  measur- 
stud*  and  ^^^^  separation  of  the  teacher  and  the  pupil 
Teaching,  is  inevitable  and  desirable  was  clearly  pointed 
out  in  the  last  chapter ;  as,  also,  that  the  separation 
should  not  be  forced  or  be  effected  at  too  early  a 
day.  Instead  of  a  teacher  unduly  hastening  the  differen- 
tiation, thus  throwing  the  pupil  almost  wholly  upon  his 
books  as  a  source  of  teaching,  he  should  seek  rather  to 
prolong  their  closer  relation,  only  taking  care  that  the 
character  of  the  work  done  shall  keep  full  pace  with  the 
pupil's  expanding  powers.  In  other  words,  between  the 
homogeneous  work  of  the  first  primary  grade  and  the 


THE  STUDY. RECITATION. 


57 


differentiated  work  of  a  later  time  should  come  a  period 
marked  by  what  I  shall  venture  to  call  the  study-recita- 
The  study-  ^io"-  ^^  the  name  suggests,  this  exercise  is 
Recitation  neither  all  study  nor  all  recitation,  but  is  a  com- 
pound of  the  two,  and  so  does  not  differ  from 
the  original  v.'ork  of  the  teacher  and  pupil  except  in  its 
greater  difificulty  and  the  fact  that  the  matter  is  drawn 
from  a  text-book. 

Reference  was  made  on  an  earlier  page  to  the  German 

schools.     The   American  teacher,  when  his   attention  is 

called    to    these  schools  for  the  first    time,  is 

German  .        ,  i  •  i  • 

Schools  surprised  by  two  circumstances:  one  the  time 
Once  More.  ^|^^^  ^j^g  pupils  Spend  eacli  day  in  school  work ; 
the  other  the  excellent  results  that  they  achieve.  The 
Ichrplan  or  programme  of  a  German  gymnasium,  for 
instance,  includes  some  thirty  hours  of  exercises  a 
week,  but  our  high  school  course  includes  about  eighteen 
periods  of  forty-five  or  fifty  minutes  of  such  exercises, 
while  the  German  boy  on  leaving  the  gymnasium  is  two 
years  in  advance  of  our  boy  on  leaving  the  high  school. 
The  German  elementary  schools  compared  with  our  own 
present  similar  differences,  save  in  the  age  of  the  pupils. 
Now  what  is  the  explanation  of  these  strong  contrasts  ? 

In  the  first  place,  the  hours  set  down  in  the  German  pro- 
gramme cover  both  the  study  and  the  recitation  periods, 
The  Teacher  ^^  ^^^  should  Call  them,  while  our  programme  in- 
in  German  cludcs  the  rccitatiou  periods  only.  The  fact 
*^  °°  ^'  is,  however,  that  German  teachers,  unlike  our 
own,  do  not  hasten  the  division  of  school  work  into  study 
and  recitation,  but  rather  seek  to  check  it.  The  teacher 
and  the  pupil  go  on  together  learning  and  teaching  just 
as  they  began  until  long  after  the  period  where  our  formal 
lesson  and  recitation  appear.     The  Germans,  in  a  word, 


58 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


make  much  less  of  the  book  in  the  school,  and  much  more 
of  the  teacher,  than  we  are  accustomed  to  do.  Their 
great  instrument  of  teaching  is  the  study-recitation. 
This  fact  explains  in  great  part  the  large  amount  of  time 
that  the  school  exercises  cover  per  day  or  per  week. 

Secondly,  the  boys  that  pass  through  the  German  gym- 
nasium, as  has  been  already  stated,  are  a  more  select  body 

of  scholars  than  the  boys  who  pass  through 
of*theGer^  OUT  high  schools.  Still,  whcn  all  due  allow- 
man  Teach-  ancc  IS  made  for  this  difference,  there  remains 

a  considerable  advantage  on  the  German  side. 
Again,  no  such  reason  can  be  given  for  the  superiority  of 
the  pupils  in  the  elementary  schools.  Perhaps  it  would 
be  going  too  far  to  ascribe  all  this  advantage  to  the  su- 
perior teaching  in  the  foreign  school,  as  other  elements 
may  enter  into  the  case,  but,  unquestionably,  this  is  the 
main  cause  of  such  superiority.  Moreover,  there  is  good 
reason  to  think  that  the  superiority  of  the  German  teach- 
ing consists  largely  in  the  constant  employment,  through 
a  series  of  years,  of  the  study-recitation.  To  explain 
more  fully  my  meaning,  I  shall  present  some  concrete  ex- 
amples of  German  lessons  or  parts  of  lessons,  prefacing 
them  with  the  remark  that  there  are  differences  in  schools 
in  Germany  as  in  the  United  States,  and  that  the  diver- 
sities of  method  and  practice  are  considerable. 

My  first  example  will  be  an  account  of  an  exercise  on 
the  geography  of  Germany  which  I  quote  from  the  well- 
known  work  of  Dr.  L.  R.  Klemm  : 

"  The  teacher  began  by  making  a  few  simple  lines  representing  the 
so-called  '  mountain-cross  '  in  Central  Europe.  After  first  drawing 
the  Fichtel  Mountains  (see  map),  he  added  the  Erz  Mountains 
toward  the  northeast,  the  Franconian  and  Thuringian  Forest  toward 
the  northwest,  the  Bohemian  and  Bavarian  Forest  toward  the  south- 


THE  STUDY- RECITATION. 


59 


east,  the  Franconian  and  Svvabian  Jura  toward  the  southwest.  A 
few  peaks  were  mentioned,  as  were  also  the  character- 
istics of  these  mountains.  Thus,  for  instance,  the 
silver  mines  in  Saxony,  the  dense  forests  in  Bohemia,  the 
lovely  scenery  in  Thuringia,  the  caves  in  the  Jura,  etc., 

came  in  for  a  few   well-remembered    remarks.     The   teacher   always 

knew  when  to  stop  ;  he  was  discretion  personified. 


A  Study- 
Recitation 
in  Geog- 
raphy. 


"  Now,  the  teacher  drew  the  four  rivers  which  rise  in  the  Fichtel 
Mountains,  namely  Main,  Saale,  Eger,  and  Naab — showing  and  indi- 
cating on  the  map  into  what  main  rivers  they  empty.  A  few  impor- 
tant cities  and  the  countries  around  the  cross  were  named.  All  this 
information  was  partly  given,  partly  asked  for,  as  the  case  suggested. 

"  Now,  the  complete  map,  a  printed  one,  was  hung  up  and  all  the 
information  just  gained  was  looked  up.  Each  item  was  noted  and  it 
made  the  children  fairly  glow  with  enthusiasm  when  they  were  able  to 
corroborate  the  facts  of  the  two  maps.  In  a  few  points  the  map  on 
the  board  was  corrected,  improved  and  completed  ;  then  the  lesson 
closed,  and  now  followed  the  recitation — that  is  to  say,  the  pupils 
were  called  upon  to  state,  in  answer  to  leading  questions,  what  they 
remembered   of   the  lesson.     My  heart  was  filled   with  joy  when  I 


6o  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

heard  them  speak  out,  not  Uke  human  parrots  who  had  memorized, 
but  like  rational  beings  who  had  learned  by  experience.  The  hour 
was  brought  to  a  close  by  an  imaginary  journey  all  over  the  section 
the  acquaintance  of  which  they  had  just  made.  Many  little  items  of 
information  were  added  on  this  journey.  Photographic  views  of  rocks 
and  mountain  scenery  were  exhibited,  and  they  proved  to  be  of  in- 
tense interest  to  these  children,  who  had  no  opportunities  of  seeing  a 
mountain  '  in  nature  '."  ^ 

My  next  example  is  an  account  of  an  exercise  in  geom- 
etry for  which  I  am  indebted  to  a  professor  of  pedagogy 
»  ^^  ^  in  one  of  our  universities.     The  first  thing  that 

A  study-  ° 

Recitation  the  visitor  remarked  was  that  the  pupils  had  no 
m Geometry.^^^^l^^^j^  In  their  hands  such  as  an  American 

teacher  puts  into  the  hands  of  his  class  (that  is,  a  book  of 
theorems  and  fully  developed  demonstrations),  but  only  a 
book  of  theorems  to  be  demonstrated  by  the  pupils  and 
teacher  working  together.  The  particular  lesson  on  this 
occasion  was  the  Pythagorean  theorem  :  the  square  des- 
cribed  on  the  hypotenuse  of  a  right-angled  triangle  is 
equal  to  the  sum  of  the  squares  described  on  the  other 
two  sides,  and  it  proceeded  somewhat  as  follows  : 

Teacher.  What  have  we  given  in  this  proposition  to  base  our 
work  on  ? 

Answer.     A  right-angled  triangle. 

Teacher.     You   may   draw  such  a  figure 
on  the  board  and  letter  it. 

Teacher.     What  does  our  proposition  say 
about  this  figure  ? 

Answer.     That  the  square  described  on 
the  hypotenuse  is  equal  to  the  sum  of  the 
squares  described  on  the  other  two  sides. 
Teacher.     Is  Fig.i.  sufficient  to  illustrate  this  .'' 
Answer.      No. 
Teacher.     Why  not  "^ 

^European  Schools,  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1S97,  pp.  14-16. 


THE  STUDY-RECITATIOX. 


6i 


Answer.     The  sides  of  the  triangle  must  have  squares  erected  on 
them. 

Teacher.     Complete   the   figure    as   you    think    necessary,  adding 
letters,  (Fig.  2). 

Teacher.     W'e  will  now  try  to  prove  our  theorem.       In  each  square 

what  are  the  relations  of  the  sides  .' 
Answer.     The    sides    of    each 
square  are  equal. 

Teacher.  If  we  try  to  prove  our 
theorem  by  tnangles,  can  you  sug- 
gest any  lines  that  might  help  us  ? 
Perhaps  the  relation  of  the  sides  of 
the  squares  w^ill  help  us. 

Atiswer.     If  we  draw    diagonals 
from  J  to  B  and  from  E  to  C  (Fig.  3) 
we  shall  have   AC   of   one  triangle 
equal  to  JA  of  the  other,  and  AB  of 
the  second  triangle  equal  to  AE  of 
the  first 
Teacher, 
equality  of  those  triangles  ? 
Answer.     No. 
Teacher.     Why  not  ? 
Answer.     When    we    have    two 
sides  of  one  triangle  equal  to  two 
sides   of   another   triangle,  the  tri- 
angles will  not  necessarily  be  equal 
unless  there  is  an  angle  in  one  equal 
to  an  angle  in  the  other. 

Teacher.     Have    we    such    an 
angle  } 

Answer.     The  angle  CAE  of  the 
first  triangle  equals  the  angle  JAB 
of  the  second  since  each  of  these 
angles  is  made  up  of  a  right  angle  and  the  angle  C.\B. 
Teacher.     What  can  you  say  of  line  HC  ? 

Answer.     It  is  the  continuation  of  CB  because  the  angles  ACH 
and  ACB  are  both  right  angles. 


Fig. 


62 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


Teacher.  Can  you  see  any  relation  between  the  triangle  JAB  and 
the  square  AH  ? 

Ans7ut'r.  The  triangle  JAB  has  the  same  base,  JA,  as  square  AH, 
and  the  same  altitude  AC. 

Teacher.     What  does  that  prove? 

Answer.     That  the  triangle  JAB  is  one  half  of  square  AH. 

Teacher.  Let  us  draw  CK  intersecting  AB  in  L  (Fig.  4).  Can 
you  see  any  relationship  between  the  triangle  CAE  and  the  rectangle 

AK? 

Answer.     It  is  the  same  relation  that  we  have  above ;  i.  e.,  triangle 

CAE  has  the  same  base,  AE  as  the 
rectangle  AK,  and  the  same  altitude 
AL.  Hence,  triangle  CAE  is  one 
half  of  AEKL. 

Teacher.  What  relation  have  we 
now  between  the  rectangle  AEKL 
and  the  square  AH  ? 

Answer.  They  are  equivalent,  as 
they  are  twice  the  equal  triangles 
CAE  and  JAB  respectively. 

But  it  is  not  necessary  to 
finish  the  demonstration. 
The  teacher  will  get  the  idea. 
Dr.  Klemm  gives  a  long 
description  of  a  lesson  in  grammar  that  he  witnessed.  I 
shall  quote  a  part  of  it  only. 

"  A    simple    sentence    was    taken,    such    as 


A  study  , 

Recitation    '  Father  called.       First  the  essential  elements 

In  Oram- 
mar. 

mentioned. 


of  the  sentence,    subject  and  predicate,   were 


Teacher.    What  question  does  '  father  '  answer  to  ? 
Answer.     To  the  question,  '  Who  called  ?  ' 

Teacher.     If  I  say  '  Father  came,'  would  the  question  be  the  same  ? 
Ans7ver.     No,  sir  ;  it  would  be,  '  Who  came  ?  ' 
Teacher.     Is    not  the    interrogative,  the  questioning  word  '  who,' 
the  same  in  both  questions  ? 


THE  S  TUD  Y-RECI TA  TION.  63 

Answer.     Yes,  and    that  word    is  always  answered  by  the  subject. 

Teacher.  We  will  note  this  in  the  corner  of  our  blackboard 
thus  :  '  Subject  answers  to  the  question  who  ?  '  But  is  that  the  only 
question  the  subject  may  answer  ? 

Answer.  If  the  subject  is  an  animal  or  inanimate  thing,  we  can- 
not ask  '  who  does  this  or  that,'  but  must  say  '  what  does  ? '  As,  for 
instance,  '  The  water  bubbles.  What  bubbles  ?  '  We  can  therefore 
add  the  word  '  what '  to  the  rule,  so  that  it  reads  '  Subject  answers  to 
the  questions  who  or  what?'   (Teacher  does  so.) 

Teacher.  Why  do  you  say  '  who  or  what  ? '  Why  not  "  who 
and  what  ?  ' 

Answer.  Because  it  cannot  do  both  ;  it  can  only  do  one  of  the 
two. 

Teacher.  Are  there  any  other  questions  to  which  the  subject  of  a 
sentence  may  answer?  Let  us  see.  Open  your  Readers  at  page  17. 
Read,  John. 

John  reads.  'The  sun  shines.  Sun,  the  subject,  answers  to  IVhat 
shines ?  ' 

Fred  reads.  '  The  physician  hurried  to  the  spot.  Here  the  sub- 
ject answers  to  the  question  who  ?  ' 

Other  sentences  are  looked  up.  All  the  pupils  agree  that 
who  and  what  are  the  only  questions  to  which  a  subject  may 
answer. 

Teacher.  Then  we  have  found  a  means  by  which  we  are  able  to 
detect  the  subject  of  any  sentence. 

Pupils  are  then  led  to  state  that  the  nominative  is  the  Who  or 
What  case,  and  that  the  subject  is  invariably  in  that  case.  A  note  is 
made  of  the  fact." 

Next,  the  predicate  was  taken  up  in  the  same  manner,  and  after- 
wards the  modifiers.  At  the  end  of  the  lesson  the  blackboard  con- 
tained notes  of  all  the  results  that  had  been  reached,  which  the  boys 
copied  down  in  their  note-books.  "  The  home  lesson  given  out,"  says 
Dr.  Klemm,  "  was  to  furnish  a  sentence  from  the  histor)'  or  reader 
which  would  illustrate  these  rules."  * 

The  excellence  of  tlie  German  instruction  in  history  is 

'European  Schools, 'i^Qvi  York,  1).  Appleton  &  Co.,  1S97,  pp,  114,  115. 


64 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


well  known  to  all  competent  students  and  teachers  of  that 
subject.     I  shall  therefore  introduce  a  sketch  of 

A  Oerman         ,  ,     .       ,  .  .        ,  ,  ,         , 

Course  in  the  work  in  history  in  the  elementary  schools 
History.  ^f  Badcn,  furnished  me  by  a  student  who  has 
studied  in  one  of  these  schools. 

First  Year  (Third  Grade).  Historical  tales  related  by  the  teacher 
and  repeated  by  the  pupils  several  times. 

Second  and  Third  Years  (Fourth  and  Fifth  Grades).  Historical  tales 
continued,  their  number  augmented.  Brief  outline  of  the  history  of 
the  village  or  town  and  the  district,  the  latter  connected  with  the  geo- 
graphy of  the  district.     Short  biographies  of  national  heroes. 

Fourth  Year  (Sixth  Grade).  Brief  outline  of  Grecian  and  Roman 
history.  Several  parts  dealt  with  in  a  more  detailed  way ;  e.  g.,  the 
Persian  wars,  Alexander  the  Great,  the  wars  between  the  Romans 
and  Germans,  the  invasion  of  the  barbarians,  historical  compositions 
embracing  both  biographies  and  tales.  Historical  essays  in  the  read- 
ing book  read  and  explained. 

Fifth  Year  (Seventh  Grade).  History  of  the  Middle  Ages  in  Ger- 
many dealt  with  in  the  same  way  as  the  ancient  history  in  the  fourth 
year.  Much  stress  laid  upon  the  Crusades  and  the  end  of  the  Middle 
Ages.  Historical  tales,  biographies,  essays  in  the  reading  book,  as  in 
the  fourth  year. 

Sixth  Year  (Eighth  Grade) .  Modern  times,  especially  in  Germany. 
History  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  the  Seven  Years'  War,  the  wars 
against  Napoleon,  and  the  war  of  1870-71  dealt  with  in  a  complete 
manner.  History  of  France  from  1648  to  181 5,  chiefly  the  French 
Revolution.  Tales,  biographies,  essays  continued  ;  longer  composi- 
tions from  the  pupil  than  previously. 

In  teaching  history  no  text-book  is  used  ;  only  oral 
instruction  by  the  teacher,  and  a  few  notes  taken  by  the 
pupils. 

Such  exercises  could  be  greatly  multiplied,  but,  as  this 
is  not  a  book  of  methods,  I  shall  take  leave  of  the  subject 
by  referring  my  readers  to  the  books  that  deal  with  the 
pedagogical  side  of  the  German  schools. 


THE  STUDY-RECITATION.  65 

The  method  of  the  study-recitation  is  well  illustrated 
by  the  laboratory  method  of  instruction.  The  great 
value  of  such  instruction  is  its  concretencss 
rator^**'^'  '^^^  reality,  since  it  brings  the  pupil  into  con- 
tact immediately,  not  with  words  and  language, 
but  with  things.  However,  the  teacher,  if  a  competent  one, 
does  not  turn  his  class  loose  in  the  laboratory  to  see  what 
they  will  stumble  upon,  if  left  to  themselves ;  he  rather 
selects  for  his  pupils,  not  only  the  line  of  work  to  be  fol- 
lowed, but  the  particular  experiments  to  be  performed, 
and  shows  them  how  to  perform  them.  He  works  -with 
his  pupils,  just  as  the  teacher  of  arithmetic,  history,  and 
grammar,  at  the  same  or  an  earlier  stage  of  their  ad- 
vancement, should  do.  As  the  pupils  progressively 
learn  the  art  of  the  laboratory,  he  leaves  them  more  and 
more  to  themselves.  The  same  method  is  followed  in 
teaching  bookkeeping  and  arithmetic  in  some  commercial 
schools  ;  the  class  room  is  made  a  sort  of  laboratory. 

Again,  the  seuiinar  of  the  German  university,  the  sem- 
inary of  the  American  university,  exemplifies  the  same 
ideas.  The  great  value  of  this  instrument  of 
inary  ^^  cducation  is  that  it  enables  the  experienced 
teacher  to  teach  a  limited  number  of  selected 
students  the  best  method  of  carrying  on  original  investi- 
gations, including  especially  the  choice  and  handling  of 
materials.  The  seminary  stands  to  the  library  in  the 
same  relation  that  the  laboratory  stands  to  nature. 

Perhaps  some  critics  will  charge  me  with  parading  as  a 
discovery  a  method  that  is  perfectly  well  known  in  Amer- 
The  study-  icau  schools.  Not  at  all;  I  am  well  aware  that 
Recitation     j^y^,}^  work  is  douc  in  our  schools  that  answers 

in  American 

Schools.        in  a  general  way  to  the  study-recitation.     Still, 
much    of    this   work  seems    to    me   to    fail  at  the    vital 

Art  0/ Study. —<i. 


66  THE  ART  OF  S TUD V. 

point  of  groundini^  the  pupil  in  the  art  of  study,  at 
the  same  time  that  he  is  immediately  assisted  in  acquiring 
knowledge.  Telling  a  pupil  the  contents  of  a  lesson  is  not 
teaching  him.  The  "  telling,"  if  telling  it  be,  must  be  done 
in  such  a  way  as  thoroughly  to  arouse  the  pupil's  active 
powers  of  acquirement.  Those  persons  who  are  most 
familiar  with  the  facts  will  be  the  first  to  deny  that  the 
study-recitations  which  have  been  given  above  lead  merely 
to  an  easy  receptivity  on  the  part  of  the  pupil  and  the 
first  to  assert  that  they  do  inculcate  the  art  of  study. 
"  '  Come  and  let  me  show  you  how,'  "  says  Professor  James, 
"  is  an  incomparably  better  stimulus  than  '  Go  and  do  it 
as  the  book  directs.'" 

A  physician  and  professor  in  a  medical  college,  who  has 
had  much  experience,  also,  as  a  common-school  teacher, 
has  remarked  to  me  upon  the  eminent  suitability  of  the 
terms  "  demonstrator  "  and  "  demonstrate  "  to  express 
one  of  the  teacher's  most  important  functions.  There 
are  demonstrators  of  anatomy  and  physiology,  he  says, 
in  the  medical  schools,  whose  business  it  is  to  demon- 
strate,  that  is,  point  out  or  make  plain,  the  facts  of  the 
human  anatomy  and  physiology.  Why  should  not  the 
teachers  of  geography,  history,  etc.,  be  considered  as  "  dem- 
onstrators "  of  their  subjects  in  so  far  as  it  is  their  busi- 
ness to  show  to  their  pupils  the  facts  comprising  those 
studies? 

Parallel  Reading. — European  Schools,  L.  R.  Klemm.  New 
York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1897.  (Particularly  those  portions 
of  the  book  that  deal  with  the  study-recitation).  The  Teaching 
of  Elemetitary  Mathematics,  David  Eugene  Smith.  New  York, 
The  Macmillan  Co.,  1900.  (See  Chap.  X.  for  Methods  of 
Teaching  Elementary  Geometry).     Educational  Aims  and  Edu- 


THE  STUD  I '-REC1 TA  TION. 


^7 


cational  Values,  Paul  H.  Hanus.  New  York,  The  Macmillan 
Co.,  1899.  Chap.  VI.  ("  The  Preparation  of  the  High  School 
Teacher  for  Mathematics").  The  Study  of  History  in  Schools. 
Report  to  the  Atnerican  Historical  Association  by  the  Committee  of 
Seven.  New  York,  The  Macmillan  Co.,  1899.  How  to  Study 
and  Teach  History,  B.  A.  Hinsdale.  New  York,  D.  Appleton 
&  Co.,  1898.  Studies  in  Education,  B.  A.  Hinsdale.  Chicago 
and  New  York,  The  Werner  School  Book  Co.,  1896.  Chap. 
X.  ("History  Teaching  in  Schools"). 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   STUDY-LESSON. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  pupil's  ettorts  to 
learn  should  end  with  the  study-recitation.  There  is 
another  and  a  more  advanced  stage  of  study  that  may  be 
called  the  study-lesson,  or  simply  the  lesson  in  the  cus- 
tomary sense  of  that  word.  The  value  or  need  of  such 
an  exercise,  which  has  been  more  than  hinted  at  already, 
calls  for  a  word  or  two  of  emphasis. 

The  educated  person,  in  the  accepted  sense,  must  know 
how  to  use  books  as  means  of  instruction,  discipline,  and 
cultivation.  He  is,  measurably  speaking,  an  in- 
Wb°ar^r.*^*  dependent  student.  Reference  may  be  made 
to  the  great  efforts  that  have  been  made  in  re- 
cent years  to  bring  the  library  into  closer  relation  with 
the  school.  Thus,  an  excellent  authority  has  said  that 
Mr.  S.  S.  Green,  of  Worcester,  Massachusetts,  had  some 
years  ago  succeeded  in  linking  the  schools  so  closely  with 
the  public  library  of  that  city,  of  which  he  was  the  head, 
that  he  and  the  teachers,  acting  in  concurrence,  indirectly 
controlled  the  reading  of  the  whole  rising  generation. 
To  sketch  the  methods  by  which  this  great  work  had 
been  accomplished  is  beside  the  present  purpose,  except 
to  say  that  Mr.  Green's  part  of  it  was  to  bring  suitable 
books  in  abundance  w^ithin  easy  reach  of  the  school  chil- 
dren, while  the  teachers  of  the  city  inspired  them  with 

68 


THE  STUDY-LESSON.  69 

a  love  of  good  books  and  guided   them   in  making  their 
choice.     The  reading  the  pupils  did  alone.  ^ 

Now  it  is  clear  that  the  end  set  forth  in  the  last  para- 
graph cannot  be  reached  as  a  rule,  that  is,  pupils  cannot 
be  brought  to  use  books  independently,  unless 

Children  to  .  r  j  ^ 

i^eariithe      they  are  so  habituated  in  the  schools.     A  well- 
use  of  Books  i^,^Q\y^    American    educator    some   years  ago 

in  Schools.  /  & 

wrote  :  "  At  least  three-fourths  of  all  the  time 
spent  by  a  boy  of  twelve  in  trying  to  learn  a  hard  lesson 
out  of  a  book  is  time  thrown  away.  Perhaps  one-fourth 
of  the  time  is  devoted  to  more  or  less  desperate  and  con- 
scientious effort  ;  but  the  large  remaining  portion  is 
dwindled  away  in  thinking  of  the  last  game  of  ball  and 
longing  for  the  next  game  of  tag."  ^  This  is  certainly 
a  true  presentation  of  the  case,  only  I  should  hesitate 
to  fix  rigidly  the  age  limit.  Moreover,  the  fact  stated 
is  the  great  reason  for  the  skillful  employment  in  the 
school  of  the  study-recitation.  This  impotence  of  the 
pupil  to  use  books  by  himself  must  be  overcome  if  he 
is  ever  to  become  a  scholar ;  and  it  can  be  done  in  only 
one  way  —  first,  by  preparing  him  to  use  books,  and  then 
setting  him  to  use  them  himself.  In  making  the  transi- 
tion from  the  study-recitation  to  the  study-lesson  some 
time  will  necessarily  be  lost,  but  the  pupil  will  be  abun- 
dantly repaid  if  he  really  gets  a  firm  hold  of  the  art  of  study. 
The  cardinal  fact  at  this  stage  of  the  pupil's  progress 
„  ,       ...is  that   he  must  be    left    to    learn   his  lessons 

Value  of  the 

Study-  practically  alone  with  his  books.     Whether  he 

i/csson.         ^^jjj    succeed  or  not  in  this  endeavor  will  de- 
pend upon  a  number  of  circumstances,    some    of    which 

^  Libraries  and  Schools,  Samuel  S.  Green,  \e\v  York,  Publishers'  Weekly. 
2  Methods  of  Teaching  History,   G.    Stanley  Hall,  Boston,  D.   C.    Heath 
&  Co.,  1885,  p.  206. 


70 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


should  be  formally  stated.  First,  however,  a  word  of  in- 
sistence upon  the  daily  lesson  as  a  factor  in  the  school 
regimen  at  the  proper  stage  of  progress.  First  and  last, 
this  embraces  three  stages,  —  assignment  of  the  lesson, 
study,  and  the  recitation.  The  assignment  of  the  lesson 
can  hardly  be  treated  in  too  practical  a  manner. 

The  first  thing  to  be  considered  is  that  the  pupil  shall 

be  ready  for  the  lesson  ;  or,  to  reverse   the  form  of  state- 

ThePu  11     iTicnt,  that  the  lesson  shall  be  adapted  to  the 

Ready  for     pupil.     It  is  a  wcU-known   law  of  the  human 

essoM.  j^jj^j  ^j^^|.    jj^  learning   we   proceed  from    the 

known  to  the  related  unknown.  The  meaning  of  this  is 
that  when  once  a  start  has  been  made  we  acquire  new 
facts,  ideas,  and  thoughts  by  means  of  the  facts,  ideas,  and 
thoughts  that  we  already  possess.  It  follows,  therefore, 
that,  if  the  new  matter  which  we  wish  to  learn  is  too 
widely  separated  from  the  old  matter  which  we  have 
learned;  or,  in  other  words,  if  the  interval  between  the 
two  is  too  great,  we  can  learn  it  only  imperfectly,  or  with 
great  diflficulty,  or  possibly  not  at  all,  as  the  case  may 
be.  To  ask  a  pupil  to  learn  a  lesson  in  any  subject  that 
is  not  connected  with  his  former  lessons,  and  especially 
his  last  one,  is  like  asking  him  to  jump  to  the  top  of  a 
rock  that  is  above  his  head.  This  law  of  mind  lies  at  the 
root  of  the  pedagogical  doctrine  of  apperception. 

What  is  more  to  our  purpose,  however,  this  law  under- 
lies all  graded  courses  of  study  and  graded  schools,  all 

graded  series  of  lessons  and  text-books,  and  all 
School  Idea,  graduated  teaching.      From  first  to  last  sound 

education  leads  the  pupil  gradually,  that  is, 
by  grades,  up  the  ascending  heights  of  study  or  learn- 
ing. The  words  "  grades  "  and  "  grading  "  are  derived 
from  the  Latin  noun  gradus,  a  step  or  pace.     We  get  the 


THE  STUD  Y-LESSON.  71 

conception  in  a  flight  of  stairs  by  which  one  ascends  to 
an  elevation  that  one  could  never  reach  if  left  to  clamber 
up  a  perpendicular  surface  ;  or,  better  sti'l,  in  a  railroad 
track  that  ascends  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  level  by  a 
moderate  rate  of  ascent,  or  a  moderate  grade. 

This  conception  of  fitness  or  adaptation  of  the  pupil  to  the 
lesson,  or  of  the  lesson  to  the  pupil,  is  of  first  importance 
The  Natural '"  education.  The  practical  problem  involved 
Order  of  is  a  difficult  onc.  Such  questions  as  the  natural 
studies.  order  of  studies — arithmetic,  geography,  his- 
tory, and  the  like  ;  the  natural  order  of  topics  or  divisions 
of  the  study ;  the  length  of  the  successive  steps  both  in 
the  study  and  in  the  course  of  study, — have  received  a 
great  amount  of  careful  attention  from  teachers  and 
educators  since  the  beginning  of  the  common  school 
revival,  sixty  or  more  years  ago.  Before  that  time  little 
had  been  done  to  solve  them. 

For  example,  Horace  Mann,  who  attended  a  district 
school  in  Massachusetts  early  in  the  century,  afterwards 
Horace  Complained  bitterly  that  what  was  called  the 
Mann  on  lovc  of  knowledge  was,  in  his  times,  cramped 
and  Schorr  '"^°  ^  ^°^^  °^  books,  bccause  there  was  no  such 
Readers  of  thing  as  oral  instruction  ;  that,  moreover,  books 
designed  for  children  were  few  and  their  con- 
tents meager  and  miserable  ;  and  that,  of  all  the  mental 
faculties,  the  memory  for  words  was  the  only  one  espe- 
cially appealed  to,  while  the  most  comprehensive  general- 
ization intended  for  men  were  given  to  the  children  in- 
stead of  the  facts  from  which  these  generalizations  were 
formed.^  Still  more,  Mr.  Mann,  characterizing  in  onc  of 
his  reports  the  school  readers  that  were  in  vogue  in  his 
schoolboy  days,  said  : 

^  Life  of  Horace  Mann,  by  his  Wife.   Boston,  Lee  &  .Shepard,  iSyi ,  pp.  11,12. 


72  THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  Y. 

"  In  many  of  the  reading  books  now  in  use  in  the  schools,  the  most 
pithy  sayings  of  learned  men,  the  aphorisms  in  which  moralists  have 
deposited  a  life  of  observation  and  experience,  the  maxims 
Horace  of  philosophers  embodying  the  highest  forms  of  intellect- 

Mann  and  J  truth,  are  set  down  as  First  Lessons  for  children  ; — 

School 
Readers.        as  though,  because  a  child  was  born  after  Bacon  and 

Franklin,  he  could  understand  them,  of  course.  While  a 
child  is  still  engrossed  with  visible  and  palpable  objects,  while  his  ju- 
venile playthings  are  yet  a  mystery  to  him,  he  is  presented  with  some 
abstraction  or  generalization,  just  discovered,  after  the  profoundest 
study  of  men  and  things,  by  some  master  intellect.  .  .  .  Erudite  and 
scientific  men,  for  their  own  convenience,  have  formed  summaries, 
digests,  abstracts  of  their  knowledge,  each  sentence  of  which  contains 
a  thousand  elements  of  truth  that  have  been  mastered  in  detail ;  and, 
on  inspection  of  these  abbreviated  forms,  they  are  reminded  of,  not 
taught,  the  individual  truths  they  contain.  Yet  these  are  given  to 
children,  as  though  they  would  call  up  in  their  minds  the  same  ideas 
which  they  suggest  to  their  authors."^ 

The  same  practice  that  Mr.  Mano  condemned  in  the 
schools  of  his  time  is  sometimes  seen  in  the  Sunday- 
Sunday-  schools  of  our  time.  Pupils  are  filled  with 
School  hard,  dry,  abstract  lessons,  which  appeal  to  the 
logical  faculties  or  to  experience,  when  they 
crave  incident,  tale,  or  parable.  The  practical  man,  if  of 
a  religious  turn,  is  apt  to  hold  the  prudential  maxims  of 
the  Book  of  Proverbs  in  high  esteem — maxims  that  sum 
up  in  the  tersest  form  the  reflections  of  sages  upon  the  ex- 
periences of  human  life  ;  maxims  that  are  often  paradox- 
ical, and  many  of  which  are  not  universally  true.  But 
there  can  hardly  be  found  in  the  Bible  materials  that  are 
less  adapted  to  the  pupil's  powers  of  digestion  and  assim- 
ilation, unless  it  may  be  the  genealogies  of  the  Books  of 
Chronicles.     Every  qualified  teacher  knows  full  well  how 

1  Life  and  Works  of  Horace  Mann,  Boston,  Lee  &  Shepard.  1891,  Vol.  IL 
P-  536. 


THE  STUDY-LESSON. 


73 


utterly  at  variance  with  the  laws  of  the  human  mind  and 
sound  educational  practice  are  the  reading  books  used  by 
young  Horace  Mann,  and  Sunday-school  lessons  for  chil- 
dren selected  from  the  wisdom  literature  of  the  Orient. 

1.  It  is  assumed,  then,  at  the  outset,  that  the  pupil  is 
abreast  of  the  lesson  to  be  assigned  in  ability  and  attain- 
The  Pupil  ments ;  or,  at  least,  that  he  is  within  such  dis- 
mr-work^     tance  that  he  can  study  it  with  advantage.     If 

this  is  not  the  case,  the  remedy  should  be 
sought  in  his  reclassification.  Still  it  is  not  meant  to 
discourage  teachers  from  assisting  pupils  to  overtake  the 
class,  who  are  not  too  far  in  the  rear,  but  the  contrary. 

2.  It  is  also  assumed  that  the  text-book  is  a  suitable  one 
for  the  pupil  to  use.  We  do  not  here  raise  the  question 
A  Suitable  of  the  relation  of  oral  and  book  teaching,  as  we 
Text-Book,  ^j-g  dealing  expressly  with  book  teaching.  If 
the  book  is  not  suitable,  then  the  proper  authority  should 
supersede  it  with  one  that  is  suitable.  But  even  if  this  is 
not  done,  or  done  at  once,  the  teacher  must  still  use  some 
book,  for  few  are  the  teachers  who  are  able  to  dispense 
with  it.  Still  sections  of  a  book  may  be  so  faulty  that 
the  teacher  who  is  able  to  do  so  will  be  justified  in  pass- 
ing them  by  and  teaching  the  subject  orally.^ 

3.  At  the  beginning  of  the  term  or  semester,  the  teacher 
should  look  carefully  over  the  work  to  be  done  before  its 
-The  close  and  proceed  accordingly.  This  is  not  as- 
Teacher  suming  that  the  metes  and  bounds  of  the  terms 
Moiterthe  'irc  fixed,  that  they  shall  not  be  passed.  The 
Field.  ^i^jjg  applies  to  the  teacher  who  enjoys  perfect 
freedom  in  the  premises,  for,  if  he  is  competent,  and  knows 
his  subject  and  his  pupils,  he  can  judge  in  advance  about 

^  For  remarks  on  the  use  of  text-books,  see  Studies  in  Educotion,  V>.  A. 
Hinsdale,  Chicago  and  New  York,  Werner  School  Book  Co.,  1896,  pp.  S0-S4. 


n. 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


how  nuicli  ground  the  class  will  cover  in  a  given  period  of 
time  and  will  seek  to  ai)portion  it  properly.  He  will  have 
his  landmarks  ahead.  In  a  system  of  public  schools,  how- 
ever, it  is  no  doubt  necessary  to  have  the  work  marked  off 
year  by  year  and  term  by  term  ;  but  these  divisions  need 
not,  and  should  not,  be  strictly  observed. 

4.  In  assigning  the  daily  lesson,  the  teacher  should 
consider  carefully  the  character  of  the  work  to  be  done 
«^   ,  and    adjust  the  lesson   to    the    ability  of   the 

The  I/esson  J  ■' 

and  the  pupils. 

Abmty.  Paragraphs  three  and  four  may  seem  so  simple 

and  obvious  as  to  make  it  unnecessary  to  cumber 
the  page  with  them.  The  experienced  superintendent, 
to  his  sorrow,  knows  better.  The  necessity  for  such 
elementary  instruction  may  point  to  the  presence  of  in- 
competent teachers  in  the  schools,  but  the  inferencje  does 
not  nullify  the  fact.  The  heedlessness  that  teachers,  even 
of  considerable  service,  sometimes  show  in  these  simple 
matters  is  discouraging.  Some  of  them  let  the  work  drag 
along  in  the  first  part  of  the  term  and  then,  waking  up  to 
the  situation,  try  to  recover  the  opportunity  that  has  been 
lost  by  driving  at  a  reckless  rate  of  speed  to  the  end  of 
the  journey.  Again,  some  teachers  are  vigorous  in  the 
beginning  of  the  term  or  year ;  feeble  in  the 
of^Points"  ^^'^^-  Others  seem  never  to  understand  that 
Three  and     different  portions  of  the  subject  differ  greatly 

Four.  .        ,-/-^       1  1 

ni  difihculty,  that  one  page  may  require  more 
study  than  five  or  ten  other  pages,  and  that,  therefore,  the 
length  of  a  lesson  is  no  measure  of  the  amount  of  work 
that  its  preparation  involves.  High-school  teachers  some- 
times measure  off  a  lesson  in  Caesar  or  in  Algebra  with 
the  page  rule,  without  stopping  to  inquire  whether  the 
one  is  a  piece  of  easy  narrative  or  a  difficult  technical 


THE  STUDY-LESSON. 


75 


description  ;  or  the  other,  part  of  an  ordinary  demonstra- 
tion printed  in  full  or  a  nest  of  hard  problems.  In  oppo- 
sition to  these  mistakes  must  be  set  the  rule  that  the 
teacher  should  assign  each  day  a  fair  day's  work,  and  then 
see  that  this  work  is  done.  If  the  lessons  are  too  light, 
the  pupils  are  retarded  in  their  progress  and  they  become 
dissatisfied  ;  if  the  lessons  are  too  heavy,  the  pupils  will 
not  be  able  to  finish  them,  and  so  must  go  over  them  a 
second  time,  losing  thereby  interest  and  courage.  Every- 
thing depends  upon  the  tone  of  the  school.  If  its  inter- 
est and  courage  are  to  be  maintained,  the  pupils  must  ac- 
complish something  day  by  day — must,  as  a  rule,  actually 
do  the  work  that  is  assigned  them  to  do.  Occasional  fail- 
ures are  valuable  as  a  discipline  and  a  spur  ;  but  no  teacher 
can  hold  a  class  up  to  the  work  on  a  regimen  of  failures. 
Success  is  the  note  of  the  good  school.  Too  long  lessons 
are  harmful,  even  if  the  pupil  finally  accomplishes  them, 
since  he  tends  to  lose  his  appetite  for  work.  To  keep  pu- 
pils  at  work  on  lessons  two  or  three  days  old  is  much  like 
giving  them  dinners  that  have  attained  the  same  age.  The 
measuring  worm,  as  he  ascends  the  wall,  or  moves  along 
the  ceiling,  is  no  proper  exampler  for  the  teacher  to  fol- 
low in  assigning  lessons. 

5.  Before  assigning  the  lesson  for  the  next  recitation 

the   teacher  should  carefully  inquire  whether  the  pupils 

need  assistance    in    preparing    it    and,    if    the 

Rendering  .       .  „  .  ,  ,         ,  ,' 

Help  when  answer  IS  m  the  arfirmative,  he  should  furnish 

the  i,esson  gucli  assistance  before  they  leave  the  recita- 
ls Assigned. 

tion  benches.  Words  in  the  lesson  may  need 
to  be  explained,  points  of  difificulty  to  be  set  in  a  proper 
light,  or  important  features  to  be  pointed  out.  Frequent 
are  the  cases  when  a  hint  or  two,  a  few  suggestions,  a 
short  explanation,  taking,  perhaps,  three  or  five  minutes, 


'j^  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

will  save  the  class  from  falling  to  pieces  or  from  "  flunk- 
ing," as  the  college  expression  is,  at  the  next  recitation. 
Much  depends  upon  the  relation  of  the  last  lesson  to  the 
new  lesson.  Subjects  and  lessons  as  presented  in  text- 
books do  not  always  ascend  by  an  easy  grade,  at  least 
as  measured  by  the  pupil's  ability  ;  some  subjects  and 
lessons  hardly  admit  of  such  presentation.  Not  unfre- 
quently  the  proper  figure  to  apply  to  the  new  lesson 
would  be  to  call  it  a  precipitous  cliff,  up  which  the 
class  is  expected  to  climb.  If,  in  such  a  case,  the  class 
are  left  unaided,  the  best  scholars  may  be  found,  when 
recitation  time  comes,  on  top  of  the  rock,  but  the  majority 
will  be  found  at  the  bottom. 

6,  Another  fundamental  requirement  is  that  the  pupil 
must  know  how  to  read  and  write,  not  only  in  the 
Knowing  mcchanical  sense,  but  also  in  the  intellectual 
how  to  sense  ;  that  is,  he  must  know  how  to  get  thought 

out  of  the  printed  page  with  a  reasonable 
degree  of  certainty  and  facility,  and  to  express  his  own 
thoughts  in  written  language.  To  put  my  meaning  in 
another  way,  it  is  assumed  that  the  pupil  has,  in  a  measure, 
mastered  the  art  of  reading  as  an  instrument  of  acquiring 
knowledge,  and  the  art  of  writing  as  an  instrument  of  im- 
parting knowledge.  Upon  these  arts  I  shall  not  here 
enlarge,  but  only  refer  the  reader  to  another  work  in  which 
I  have  dealt  with  those  important  subjects.^ 

Note. — Some  accounts  of  schools,  as  schools  were  at  the  beginning 
of  the  centur)%  seem  almost  incredible.  See  for  example  the  one 
that  Horace  Mann  gave  of  his  early  education.     Page  7 1 . 

Dr.  Francis  Wayland  wrote  a  still  more  striking  history  of  the 
teaching  that  he  received  from  the  master  of  a  private  school  in  New 
York,  from  which  the  following  is  an  extract : 

^  Teaching  the  Language- Arts.     New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1896. 


THE  STUDY-LESSON.  yj 

"  He  used  but  one  motive  to  obedience — terror.  The  ferule 
and  the  cowhide  were  in  constant  use.  He  never  taught  us  any- 
thing; indeed,  he  seemed  to  think  it  below  his  dignity.  I  do  not 
remember  anything  approaching  explanation  while  I  was  at  the  school. 
A  sum  was  set,  and  the  pupil  left  to  himself  to  find  out  the  method 
of  doing  it.  If  it  was  wrong,  the  error  was  marked,  and  he  must  try 
again.  If  again  it  was  wrong,  he  was  imprisoned  after  school,  or 
he  was  whipped. 

"  In  other  studies  the  text  of  the  book  must  be  repeated  withor.t 
a  word  of  explanation.  Geography  was  studied  without  a  map,  by 
the  use  of  a  perfectly  dry  compendium.  I  had  no  idea  what  was 
meant  by  bounding  a  country,  though  I  daily  repeated  the  boundaries 
at  recitation.  I  studied  English  grammar  in  the  same  way.  I  had 
a  good  memory,  and  could  repeat  the  grammar  (Lowth's,  I  think) 
throughout.  What  it  was  about,  I  had  not  the  least  conception. 
Once  the  schoolmaster  was  visiting  at  my  father's,  and  I  was  called 
up  to  show  my  proficiency  in  this  branch  of  learning.  I  surprised 
my  friends  by  my  ability  to  begin  at  the  commencement  and  to 
proceed  as  far  as  was  desired ;  yet  it  did  not  convey  to  me  a  single 
idea.  Years  afterwards,  when  I  began  to  study  Latin,  and  found 
the  relation  of  words  to  each  other  designated  by  terminations,  and 
when  the  matter  was  explained  to  me,  the  whole  of  my  past  study 
came  to  me  like  a  new  revelation.  I  saw  the  meaning  of  what  I 
had  formerly,  in  utter  darkness,  committed  to  memory."  ' 

Parallel  Reading. — Mental  Development  in  the  Child,  W. 
Preyer.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1894.  Psychology  and 
Psychic  Culture,  Reuben  Post  Halleck.  New  York,  American 
Book  Company,  1895.  The  Essentials  of  Method,  Charles  De 
Garmo.     Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  1889. 

1  A  Memoir  of  the  Life  and  Labors  of  Francis  Waylaud,  Francis  and  H. 
L.  Wayland.     New  York,  Butler,  Sheldon  &  Co.,  186S,  Vol.  I.,  pp.  24-25. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ATTACKING   THE   LESSON. 

A  quarter   of   a   century   ago   the    late    Dr.    Paul  A. 

Chadbourne,  President  of  Williams  College,  delivered  an 

able  address   before  the  American  Institute  of 

Dr.  Chad- 
bourne  on      Instruction  which  he  entitled  "  Waste  of  Labor 
Waste  in       jj-^  ^j.^^  wIqy]^  q(   Education."     He  began  with 

Education  ° 

pointing  out  that,  while  education  is  supposed 
to  prevent  waste  of  labor,  it  is  itself  accompanied  by  a 
great  amount  of  such  waste.  He  found  the  principal 
sources  of  this  waste  in  imperfect  teaching,  teaching  un- 
important things,  want  of  thoroughness,  a  misapprehen- 
sion of  the  real  purposes  of  study,  errors  in  text-books, 
bad  classification  of  pupils  and  students,  irregularity  of 
attendance,  want  of  enthusiasm  on  the  part  of  the  teacher, 
and  neglect  of  moral  training.  These  are  all  undoubted 
sources  of  waste,  and  still  others  can  be  enumerated. 

There  are  several  sources  of  waste  in  the  schoolroom — 
waste,  that  is,  of  the  pupil's  time  and  energy.     One  of 

these  sources  is  ill-constructed  courses  of  study  : 

The  study-  .  ,      ^  ^ 

i/esson  a      a  second,  ill-chosen  text-books  ;  a   third,  ill-as- 
sourceof      signed    lessons.      And  then,   when    these    are 

Waste.  °  ' 

stopped,  if  stopped  they  are,  there  remain 
still  others,  as  the  study-lesson,  the  recitation-lesson,  the 
review,  and  the  examination.  Now  it  is  in  the  study- 
lesson  that  the  pupil  shows  his  mastery  of  his  art.  It  is 
here  that  he  reveals   his  ability  or  inability  to  study  and 

78 


ATTACKING  THE  LESSON. 


79 


learn  his  lesson.  The  study-lesson  is  therefore  the 
greatest  of  all  the  possible  sources  of  waste  in  the  school- 
room. Some  of  this  waste  is  unavoidable,  as  the  pupil 
must,  in  a  sense,  learn  to  save  time  and  effort  as  he  learns 
to  save  money, — by  wasting  ;  but  the  amount  of  such 
waste  in  the  schools  at  the  present  time  is  far  in  excess 
of  all  reasonable  requirements  on  this  score. 

Careful  investigation  shows  that  the  waste  which  ac- 
companies the  study-lesson  is  due  to  one  of  two  causes,  or 
to  both  of  them.     One  is  lack  of  ability  prop- 

Igfnorance 

and  lack  of  ^rly  to  attack  the  lesson,  and  the  other  lack 
Interest  and  Qf  ability  to  sustain    the    attack  when  made. 

Couragfe. 

Again,  these  two  defects  are  due  to  different 
causes.  Inability  to  make  the  attack,  or  to  make  it  as  it 
should  be  made,  is  due  primarily  to  ignorance;  while  in- 
ability  to  sustain  it  is  due  primarily  either  to  lack  of 
interest  or  to  a  feeble  will.  Ignorance  here  means  failure 
to  see  and  to  grasp  the  question  or  questions  that  the 
lesson  holds  out  to  the  learner.  The  two  defects  are  not 
necessarily  connected,  since  they  spring  from  different 
roots,  but  they  tend  to  run  together  and  are  often,  if  not 
commonly,  found  in  conjunction.  If  a  pupil  fails  to 
master  his  lesson  because  he  does  not  know  how  to  attack 
it,  his  failure  will  generally  tell  disastrously  upon  his 
interest  or  courage ;  while  feeble  interest  or  courage 
shown  in  following  up  an  attack  is  almost  sure  to  appear 
in  the  attack  itself. 

It  is,  therefore,  quite  clear  that  these  are  important 
matters,  deeply  concerning,  first,  the  teacher  and  then  the 
^^    -^.L.  pupil.     Much  that  has  been  said  in   preceding 

The  Phrase,   '      '  i  fc. 

"  Attacking:  chapters  relates  more  or  less  directly  to  attack- 
thei,e88on."jj^^  the  lesson  ;  but  it  will  be  well,  even  at  the 
cost  of  partially  retracing  our  steps,  to  devote  a  special 


8o  THE  ART  OF  S TUD  V. 

chapter  to  the  topic.  Afterwards,  sustaining  the  attack 
upon  the  lesson  will  occupy  our  attention  through  a 
series  of  chapters,  which  will  not,  however,  bear  that 
name.  Let  us  form  a  clear  idea  of  what  the  phrase,  *'  at- 
tacking the  lesson,"  means. 

The  first  rule  for  the  guidance  of  the  pupil  is  to  find  out 
the  subject  of  the  lesson.  What  is  it  all  about  ?  is  the 
What  the  ^^^^  question  to  be  asked.  If  the  pupil  has 
i,esson  is  been  well  trained  in  the  study-recitation  he  will, 
from  habit,  as  well  as  interest,  ask  this  ques- 
tion ;  and,  if  the  lesson  has  a  fair  degree  of  unity  and  com- 
pleteness in  itself,  he  will  have  little  or  no  difficulty  in 
answering  it.  For  example,  the  lesson  is  on  Washington's 
Virginia  Campaign  of  1781  ;  on  the  method  of  solving  a 
quadratic  equation  ;  or  on  the  attributes  of  the  adjective. 
Some  persons  may  think  this  rule  is  too  obvious  to 
be  put  in  a  book.  Experienced  teachers,  however, 
know  that  pupils  in  the  higher  grades  of  the  elementary 
schools,  and  in  the  high  schools  too,  come  to  the  reci- 
tation bench  with  only  confused  and  general  ideas  of  the 
subject  of  a  lesson, — to  say  nothing  of  the  subject-matter — 
when  they  suppose  they  have  mastered  the  lesson.  Rela- 
tive to  these  points,  there  is  now  a  vast  amount  of 
blundering  and  heedlessness  in  the  schools.  Pupils  begin 
to  figure  on  mathematical  questions  and  problems  before 
they  have  half  read  them  ;  or  they  begin  to  analyze  sen- 
tences in  grammar  without  having  at  all  grasped  their 
meaning.     This  is  often  seen  in  written  examinations. 

We  shall  go  back  for  a  moment  to  consider  the  study- 
Barnett  rccitation.  Here  it  is  the  teacher's  first  business 
°bi  "^jLes-  ^°  place  directly  and  clearly  before  the  pupil's 
sons.  mind   the   end    or   aim    in   view.       Mr.  P.  A. 

Barnett,  condemning  the    practice   of  those    "trained" 


Ns. 


ATTACKING  THE  LESSON.  8 1 

teachers  who,  in  giving  a  set  lesson,  think  it  necessary  to 
beat  about  the  bush,  in  order  to  get  the  class  to  guess  what 
they  are  driving  at  by  a  process  recalHng  the  "  animal, 
vegetable,  or  mineral  "  game  of  our  youth,  gives  the  fol- 
lowing wholesome  counsel  : 

"  In  fact,  the  pupils  begin  by  putting  themselves  into  a  thoroughly 
false  attitude.  They  enter  on  a  kind  of  guessing  competition,  striving 
to  tind  out  what  is  in  the  teacher's  mind,  what  he  wants  them  to  say. 
This  is  bad  teaching.  Once  upon  a  time,  for  instance,  a  master  was 
about  to  give  a  lesson  on  marble  to  some  small  boys,  and  began,  for 
some  occult  reason,  bv  asking  his  class  to  tell  him  the  names  of  vari- 
ous stones.  He  thus,  '^'elicited,'  hearthstone,  bluestone,  granite,  kerb- 
stone, sandstone  —  everything  but  marble.  At  last  he  tried  another 
attack.  '  Do  you  ever,"  he  asked,  'go  for  walks  on  Sunday  —  in  the 
churchyard?'  '  Yes,  sir,'  said  a  little  boy.  'And  what  do  you  see 
there  ?  '  '  The  tombstones.'  '  Well,  don't  those  remind  you  of  another 
kind  of  stone  ?     Think,  boys  think  ! '     'Please,  sir,  brimstone.'  " 

Mr.  Barnett  very  justly  says  this  teacher  should  have 
told  his  boys  without  any  preface  that  he  was  going 
Exceptions  to  give  them  a  lesson  on  marble  ;  there  was 
to  the  Rule,  ^q^  ^^  Icast  reason  for  beginning  his  work  by 
getting  them  to  guess  what  was  in  his  mind.  He  is 
equally  right  in  saying  that  nothing  can  be  gained  by  con- 
cealing from  the  class  the  immediate  object  of  the  instruc- 
tion. He  makes  an  exception  in  the  case  of  very  young 
children,  with  whom  the  teacher,  as  a  whet  to  the  appetite, 
may  start  with  a  little  brief  mystery  before  he  produces 
the  apple  which  is  to  be  the  subject  of  the  lesson ;  but 
even  here  he  cautions  the  teacher  not  to  tire  out  the 
slender  powers  of  the  children  by  setting  them  to  guess- 
work before  he  comes  to  real  instruction.  Perhaps  another 
exception  may  be  made.  With  older  pupils  the  teacher 
may  sometimes,  in  order  to  arouse  curiosity  or  to  enkindl? 

A  rt  of  Study.— t. 


82  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

interest,  keep  the  subject  dangling  for  a  little  time  before 

their  eyes  ;  but  the  practice  easily  degenerates  into  abuse. 

For  the  kind  of  lessons  that  he  has  before  his  mind,  Mr. 

Barnett's  model   questions  are   right  :  "  Who  can  tell  me 

anything  about  this  apple  ?  .  .  .  the  equator  ?  .  .  .  Milton  s 

versification  ?  "  ^ 

The  next  rule  is  that  the  pupil  should  seize  the  leading 

subdivisions  of  the  lesson.     The  author  of  a  text-book,  if 

he  understands  his    business,  ^vill   present  his 

sions  of  the  matter  in  such  a  form  as  to  facilitate  the  process. 

i,es9on  to  bef^e  \\\\\,  for  example,  express  the  s^eneral  sub- 
Seized.  .  r    '       r  & 

ject  of  his  chapter  in  the  title  or  heading,  and 

then  treat  its  leading  features  or  subdivisions  in  single 
paragraphs  or  closely  related  paragraphs,  each  with  its 
own  side-head  or  sub-title.  If  the  author  has  omitted  these 
convenient  aids  —  "handles"  they  may  be  called,  that 
enable  the  pupil  to  take  hold  of  the  lesson  —  the  teacher 
should  show  him  how  to  make  them  for  himself.  Thus 
the  fourth  of  Sir  Joshua  Fitch's  Lectures  on  Teaching 
is  on  the  subject  of  Discipline.  The  side-heads  are  "  The 
Teacher  as  an  Administrator  or  Ruler,"  "Obedience  not 
to  be  had  by  Demanding  It,"  "  Commands  to  be  Well  Con- 
sidered before  They  are  Given,"  and  so  on  to  the  end  of 
the  chapter.  To  fix  the  subject  of  such  a  lecture  and  the 
sub-heads  firmly  in  mind  is  to  make  an  attack  upon  the 
lesson  that  promises  the  fullest  success. 

The  next  fact  to  be  stated  is  that  most  lessons  present 

Central         ^  ^^^^'  points  whicli  are  so  central  that  they  are 

Points  to  be  keys  to  the  whole  subject ;  while  the  next  rule 

is  that  the  pupil  should  seek  to  discover  such 

points  and  make  them  his  own.     We  are  using  a  military 

1  Common  Sense   in    Education   and    Teaching.     New  York,  Longmans, 
Green  &  Co.,  1899,  pp.  i-ii. 


ATTACKING  THE  LESSON.  83 

metaphor.  When  General  Grant  had  carried  Missionary 
Ridge,  the  whole  Confederate  position  far  to  the  right 
and  far  to  the  left  fell  easily  and  speedily  into  his  hands. 
Returning  to  an  old  topic,  while  the  pupil  should  be 
prepared  by  the  study-recitation  to  attack  the  lesson,  still, 
over  and   above  such  preparation,  the  teacher 

Help  at  the        .,,        ,  r      ,     • 

Aasignment  Will   often  hnd   it   ncccssary  to  render  special 

of  the  assistance  when  the  lesson  is  assigned,  as  has 

Z<esson.  ° 

been  remarked  in  the  last  chapter.  As  there 
stated,  in  substance,  a  few  words  serving  to  focalize  the 
pupil's  mind  upon  the  proper  point  or  points  of  attack 
will  make  all  the  difference  between  a  lesson  well  pre- 
pared and  a  total  failure.  Teachers  do  not  always  appre- 
ciate the  difficulties  that  new  lessons  offer  to  the  minds  of 
pupils,  and  especially  when  the  specific  subjects  are  new. 
Many  lessons  may  be  likened  to  balls  that  are  too  large 
for  the  catcher's  hands,  so  that  he  is  unable  to  seize  and 
hold  them. 

Perhaps  the  main  point  of  the  present  chapter  can  be 
made  still  more  definite  and  concrete.  Let  us  take  a 
problem  in  mathematics. 

Our  word  "  problem  "  is  from  the  Greek  x\owx\ problcvia, 
which  comes  from  the  verb  proballein,  to  throw  forward. 
A  "  Prob-  The  problem  is  conceived  of  as  something  that 
lem."  jg   thrown    forward    by   a    questioner   to    an 

answerer.  The  two  stand  in  the  relation  of  the  pitcher 
and  the  catcher  in  a  game  of  base-ball.  The  pitcher  is 
the  teacher  or  author;  the  catcher  is  the  pupil.  And  the 
pupil  catches  the  ball  when  he  understands  the  problem, 
or  sees  what  it  means,  no  matter  whether  he  can  solve  it 
or  not.  Similarly,  many  other  lessons  may  be  looked 
upon  as  balls  thrown  to  pupils  for  them  to  catch. 

It  will  be  seen,  of  course,  that  the  attack  upon  a  lesson  is 


84  THE  ART  OF  STUDY, 

always  an  act  of  analysis.  The  mind  bites  into  the  lesson, 
so  to  speak,  with  a  view  to  separating  it,  as  the  teeth  bite 
into  an  apple. 

Once  more,  the  successful  student  must  have  correct 

ideals  of  study  and  of  preparation.     He  must  know  what 

is  required  of  him  ;  must  know   when  a  lesson 

Correct  ^  ' 

Ideals  of  is  prepared,  or  what  preparation  consists  in. 
pre^araHon  ^"^  ^'^  "°^  ^^^^  possible  but  easy,  as  experienced 
teachers  know,  for  pupils,  especially  if  they  have 
affluence  of  language,  to  talk  or  write  quite  entertainingly 
about  things  that  they  do  not  at  all  understand.  Knowing 
about  a  thing  is  not  the  same  as  knowing  the  thing.  A 
pupil  may  have  considerable  knowledge  about  the  cru- 
sades, or  about  geysers,  and  not  have  a  clear  idea  of 
what  a  crusade  was  or  a  geyser  is.  No  rule  relating  to 
the  subject  is  more  important  than  that  pupils  shall  know 
what  they  are  doing. 

It  may  be  said  that  in  these  matters  much  depends 
upon  the  subject  and  the  study,  and  that  there  are  differ- 
Such  Ideals  ^ut  idcals  of  preparation  rather  than  a  single 
Vary  with     jdeal.     This  is  perfectly  true.     Manifestly  the 

studies.  . 

pupil  who  should  prepare  his  lessons  in  arith- 
metic, history,  and  grammar  in  the  same  way  would 
make  a  mess  of  it.  Mathematics,  and  to  a  great  extent 
the  sciences  as  well,  present  to  the  mind  definite  ques- 
tions to  be  answered,  or  strict  chains  of  reasoning  to  be 
followed  and  mastered.  No  element  can  be  omitted  in 
either  case  without  vitiating  the  whole  process.  To  a  log- 
ical mind  the  method  is  perfectly  intelligible.  At  the 
same  time,  this  method  is  wholly  inapplicable  to  historj'', 
geography,  or  literature.  For  example,  a  lesson  in  history 
is  something  like  a  landscape,  a  learner  of  the  lesson  like 
a  painter.     The  painter,  after    due   examination,    selects 


ATTACKING   THE  LESSON.  85 

some  favored  spot  from  which  he  can  take  in  the  whole 
scene  ;  the  ground  rises  and  falls  ;  the  river  winds  here, 
Mathe-  a-^d  the  road  runs  there  ;  field  and  wood,  village 
matics  and  ^nd  farm,  fill  in  the  view,  as  it  presents  itself  to 

History.  TT         1 

his  eye.  He  does  not  aitempt  to  reproduce 
on  his  canvas  all  that  he  sees,  but  only  those  features 
of  the  scene  which  give  it  character  and  individuality, — 
what  may  be  called  the  essential  elements  of  the  land- 
scape. The  amount  of  filling  in  will  depend  upon  the 
scene  itself  and  the  size  of  his  canvas.  No  doubt  this 
illustration  may  be  so  pressed  as  to  make  it  teach  error. 
My  contention  is  only  that  the  fruitful  study  of  the  his- 
tory of  a  country  or  an  age  leaves  the  pupil's  mind  in 
much  the  same  state  that  the  painter  of  the  landscape 
leaves  his  canvas. 

There  is  one  rule  which  is  of  universal  application, 
viz. :  the  teacher  must  remember  that  words  are  not  ideas. 
"Words  not  ^^  ^^  ^"^^^  cnough  that  words,  in  a  secondary 
Ideas.  sense,  arc  things,  and  so  are  proper  subjects  of 

study,  as  in  etymology,  but  the  primary  office  of  words  is 
to  convey  meaning.  Montaigne  said  that  "  to  know  by 
heart  is  not  to  know,"  while  learning  by  heart  is  equally 
not  to  learn.  There  are  indeed  certain  exceptions  to 
be  mentioned  hereafter.  To  some  minds  the  verbal 
clothing  of  ideas  and  thoughts  will  cling  to  them  as  the 
bark  clings  to  a  tree,  or  the  skin  to  an  animal,  but  this  is 
not  true  of  most  minds  and  it  is  not  desirable  that  it 
should  be.  The  ordinary  pupil  will  emphasize  either 
substance  or  form,  and  if  he  emphasizes  form  he  will  not 
emphasize  substance.  After  his  teaching  days  were  over, 
General  Garfield  used  to  tell  a  story  of  a  member  of  a 
class  in  surveying  that  he  had  taught.  The  text-bock  used 
contained  a  picture  and  a  detailed  description  of  a  theod- 


86  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

olite,  both  of  which  the  class  were  required  to  study  since 
the  school  did  not  possess  a  real  theodolite.    The  student 

n  rai  '"  qucstioH,  on  being  called  upon,  gave  a  full 
Garfield's  description  of  the  instrument  and  then  sat 
**°*^^*  down,  having  made  what  was  considered  a  very 

brilliant  recitation.  But  before  the  close  of  the  hour 
some  incident,  as  a  remark  by  the  student,  or  perhaps  a 
question  by  the  teacher,  revealed  the  fact  that  this  student 
had  no  idea  whatever  of  the  construction  or  the  use  of  the 
instrument  that  he  had  described  so  minutely.  Pie  had 
extraordinary  power  of  verbal  memory,  and  had  simply 
memorized  the  author's  description  as  he  would  have  mem- 
orized a  declamation.  The  language  had  adhered  to  his 
mind  just  as  paint  will  sometimes  adhere  to  the  hand. 

The  teacher  must  remember  that  the  pupil's  attack 
upon  the  lesson  is  different  from  the  teacher's  own  attack. 
-.,    «    „.    The  pupil  is  interested  in  the  academical,  the 

The  Pupil's  r    r 

Attack  and    tcacher  in  the  pedagogical,  view  of  the  lesson. 

*r'^  Attack  ^^^^  ^^^  °^  ^^^^  '^^^  '^^  ^°  learn  the  lesson,  the 
upon  a  aim  of  the  other  to  teach  it.     The  academical 

esson.  view  necessarily  precedes  the  professional  one. 
Even  the  normal  school,  when  it  teaches  academical 
studies,  has  its  own  way,  or  should  have  its  own  way,  of 
looking  at  them.  It  is  the  work  of  the  normal  school,  as 
Dr.  Harris  has  said,  to  lead  the  student  to  reexamine  all 
his  elementary  branches  in  their  relations  to  the  higher 
ones.     He  goes  on  to  say  : 

"  The  Normal  school,   therefore,  took  up  just  this  work  at  the  be- 

^     „      ,       irinnins:,  and  performed  it  well.     It  induced  in  the  youne 

Dr.  Harris      o  »'  i  ,        r  , 

on  the  "len  and  women,  preparing    for   the  work  of  teachmg. 

Normal  the  habit  of  taking  up   the  lower  branches  in  their  re- 

School,  lations  to  the  higher — taking  them  up  constructively,  as 

it  were.       For,  to   study    arithmetic    in   the   light    of    algebra  and 


ATTACKING   THE  LESSON.  87 

geometry  is  to  study  it  constructively.  Its  rules  are  derived  from 
algebraic  formula,  and  are  to  be  demonstrated  by  algebraic  processes. 
So  the  details  of  geography  have  their  explanation  in  the  formative 
processes  of  land  and  water  as  treated  in  physical  geography, 
and  the  sciences  of  which  it  is  a  compend.  Of  course  this  demands 
a  high  standard  of  preparation  in  those  who  enter  the  Normal  school. 
The  higher  the  better,  for  they  should  be  able  to  review  the  lower 
branches  in  the  light  of  all  human  learning."  1 

This  is  true  enough  in  its  own  place,  but  the  teacher 
must  not  forget  to  return  to  the  place  of  beginning.  The 
successful  teacher  is  always  able  to  place  himself  at  the 
pupil's  point  of  attack. 

The  character  of  the  pupil  is  formed,  so  far  as  the 
school  serves  to  form  it,  by  the  regimen  and  tone  that 
Regimen  of  "^^^  habitually  maintained.  Every  teaching  ex- 
the  School  ercise  should  be  considered  under  two  aspects  : 
Pupil's  °"G  ^^^^  direct   contribution   that  it    makes  to 

Character,  the  pupil's  knowledge  ;  and  the  other  its  dis- 
ciplinary results,  or  its  effect  upon  his  habits  and  char- 
acter. The  two  results,  while  causally  connected,  are  not 
measures  one  of  another.  Now  the  good  school  gener- 
ates courage  and  self-reliance,  which  it  can  do  only  upon 
the  condition  that  the  pupils  shall  succeed  in  their 
lessons  far  more  frequently  than  they  fail.  It  is  well 
enough  for  the  pupil  to  be  "  stumped  "  occasionally, 
and  there  is  a  discipline  in  temporary  failure,  perhaps  in 
permanent  failure,  but  success  should  be  the  habit  of  the 
school.  Moreover,  success  cannot  be  the  habit  if  too 
much  is  required  of  the  pupil.  The  regimen  under  which 
the  child  grows  up  should  not  be  flabby,  but  relatixcly 
strenuous.     Still,  in  the  early  period  of  character  forming, 

^  Oration  delivered  at  the  semi-centennial  celebration  of  the  State  Normal 
School,  Framingham,  Mass.,  July  2,  1899. 


88  THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  Y. 

he  should  be  shielded  as  far  as  possible  from  excessive 
demands  upon  his  attention,  his  faculties  of  judgment 
and  thinking,  and  especially  his  power  to  resist  tempta- 
tion ;  nor  should  he  be  overexposed  to  them  in  a  later 
period,  when   his  character  is  better  formed. 

Parallel  Reading. —  Waste  of  Labor  in  the  Work  of  Educa- 
tion^ Paul  A.  Chadbourne,  (Circulars  of  Information  of  the 
Bureau  of  Education,  No.  4).  Washington,  Government  Print- 
ing Office,  1885.  The  School  and  Society, ]ohr\YyewQ.y.  Chicago, 
University  Press,  1899.     Lecture  III.  ("  Waste  in  Education"). 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    RECITATION-LESSON. 

What  the  recitation  means  to  American  teachers  and 

writers  on  teaching  has  been  explained  in  a  general  way 

on  an  earlier  page.     How  important  they  con- 

tion  h^^^^^'  ccivc  i^  ^°  ^^  *^  shown  by  the  place  that  is 
American  accordcd  to  it  in  the  school  and  in  books  and 
Schools.  lectures  on  teaching.     It  is  no  exaggeration  to 

say  that  a  large  majority  of  them  look  upon  it  as  the  prin- 
cipal feature  of  the  school.  Authors  who  have  never  a 
word  to  say  about  the  art  of  study  have  whole  chapters 
on  the  recitation,  while  a  great  many  teachers,  failing  to 
render  their  pupils  needed  assistance  in  learning  their 
lessons,  see  the  fulfillment  of  their  duty  in  assigning 
lessons  and  hearing  recitations. 

It  is,  therefore,  curious  to  observe  that  English  teach- 
ers and  writers  on  teaching  never  use  the  word  "  recita- 
TTnknowniii  tion "  at  all  in  our  familiar  sense  of  it.  A 
English  leading  London   journal,  speaking  of  a  new 

American  book  on  education  not  long  ago, 
thought  it  necessary  to  explain  to  its  readers  the  author's 
use  of  the  word.  English  teachers  have  the  thing  but 
not  the  name;  they  call  it  the  "lesson." 

It  may  be  said  that  if  English  teachers  have  the  thing 
it  cannot  matter  whether  they  have  the  name  or  not.  I 
am  not  so  sure  that  this  is  the  case,  but  rather  think  that 
they  have  the  advantage  over  us.     First,  I  am  not   quite 

89 


90 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


sure  that  they  do  have  precisely  the  same  thing,  but 
however  that  may  be,  it  is  certainly  easier  for  the  English 
teacher  to  avoid  the  fatal  habit  of  thinking  that  his 
great  function  is  to  conduct  recitations  or  "  to  hear 
lessons"  than  it  is  for  the  American  teacher.  If  we 
could  in  some  way  get  rid  of  the  word  it  would  be  easier 
to  free  the  American  school  from  the  slavery  that  the 
recitation  now  imposes  upon  it.  Since,  however,  that  is 
undoubtedly  impossible,  we  must  make  up  our  minds  to 
accept  the  name  with  all  its  unfortunate  associations,  and 
do  what  we  can  to  improve  the  recitation  itself.  So  I 
submit  to  my  fate,  and  contribute  my  chapter  to  the  liter- 
ature of  the  subject. 

And  first,  I  must  emphasize  the  fact  that  the  recitation 
should  not  be  thrown  out  of  the  school.     This  becomes  ap- 
parent when  it  is  remembered  that  the  recita- 
tion should  tion,  or  recitation-lesson,  as  I  have  ventured  to 
not  be  (.^jj  j^^  jg  ^j^  exercise  in  which  the  pupil  meets  his 

thrown  out.  ,111  ,   •        , 

teacher  to  report  what  he  has  learned  m  the 
study-lesson,  and  to  receive  needed  instruction  in  connec- 
tion with  the  subject.  In  view  of  what  was  said  early  in 
this  book,  it  should  not  now  be  necessary  to  do  more  than 
repeat  that  such  an  exercise  has  no  place  early  in  the 
school  course,  and  that  often  the  mistake  is  made  of 
throwing  it  too  soon  and  too  far  to  the  front.  At  the 
same  time,  the  study-recitation,  valuable  as  it  is,  will  not 
do  either  one  of  two  things,  which  must,  however, 
be  done  at  the  same  time, — ground  the  pupil  in  knowl- 
edge or  ground  him  in  the  art  of  study.  There  comes 
a  time  in  the  progress  of  the  pupil  when  he  can  learn 
more  in  half  an  hour  in  the  study-recitation  than  in 
an  hour  in  the  study-lesson,  and  yet  shcsuld  make  the 
present  sacrifice  since  it  is  essential  to  future  progress. 


THE  REGIT  A  TION-LESSON. 


91 


The  pupil  will  never  become  an  independent  worker  un- 
less he  learns  to  work  independently  ;  he  will  never  get 
much  real  hold  of  the  art  of  study  as  an  instrument  save 
by  practicing  that  art.  Hence  the  great  importance  of 
the  transition  from  oral  teaching  to  the  book,  and  of  the 
passage  from  the  study-recitation  to  the  study-lesson  and 
the  recitation-lesson.  Perhaps  at  no  point  is  the  teach- 
er's art  more  severely  taxed.  So  much  for  prelimi- 
naries. 

Attacking  our  subject  directly,  we  find  that  it  can  be 
separated  into  two  main  subdivisions — aim  and  method, 

or  the  objects  of  the  recitation-lesson  and 
Objects  of  the  means  or  steps  by  which  those  objects  shall 
the  Recita-      |^g  readied.     The  relations  of  the  two  topics, 

and  of  the  order  in  which  they  should  be 
treated,  are  too  obvious  to  call  for  formal  remark. 

I.   THE   OBJECTS   OF   THE   RECITATION-LESSON. 

This  topic  opens  a  considerable  breadth  of  educational 
territory,  but  we  must  confine  ourselves  to  essential  fea- 
tures. The  main  objects  of  the  recitation-lesson  are  the 
following : 

1.  To  give  pupils  an  opportunity  to  report  to  their 
teacher  what  they  have  learned  of  the  lesson  previously 

assigned,  or  to  reveal  to  him  what  they  know 

Reporting:.  ,  ,  1         , 

of  the  subject.  1  hat  is,  to  enable  them  to 
show  how  they  have  employed  their  time,  or  to  give  an 
account  of  their  stewardship.  Here  the  pupil  holds  the 
floor.  That  this  is  the  first  object  of  the  recitation 
results  from  the  relations  of  the  exercise  to  past  lessons 
and  future  lessons. 

2.  To  enable  the  teacher  to  discover  and  correct  the 


92 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


pupils*  ignorance  of  thedesson,  including  their  errors  and 
misconceptions.'  The  teacher  now  becomes 

Correcting.  i  i      c  i  i 

more  promment  than  before  ;  he  not  only  re- 
ceives but  also  criticises  and  corrects  the  reports  that  the 
pupils  make  him. 

3.  To  enable  the  teacher  to  add  to  the  pupils'  knowl- 
edge  of   the    lesson    or   subject,    by    means   of   a   more 

thorough  discussion  of  the  knowledge  that  the 

Expanding.  •      j  j  u 

pupils  have  themselves  acquired,  and  by  pro- 
ducing new  knowledge.  It  is  clear  that  the  teacher  now 
becomes  still  more  prominent  than  in  the  function 
of  criticism  and  correction. 

4.  To  enable  the  teacher  to  prepare  the  way  for  the 
next  lesson  and  recitation.     To  be  sure,  the  ends  already 

named  constitute  a  part  of  such  preparation, 

Preparing. 

but  it  is  only  a  part.  Mention  must  also  be 
made  of  the  assignment  of  the  next  lesson,  such  explana- 
tion as  it  may  call  for,  and  any  special  knowledge  that 
the  pupil  may  need  in  the  ensuing  study-lesson. 

5.  To  enable  the  teacher  to  observe  the  ways  in  which 
pupils  do  their  work,  and  to   correct   them  when   neces- 
sary ;  in  other  words,  to  give  the  teacher  an 

Pupils^  opportunity   to  see   that,  along  with   knowl- 

edge, his  pupils  are  also  getting  the  art  of 
study. 

6.  To  enable  the  members  of  the  class  to  compare  their 
facts  and  ideas,  to  bring  their  views  of  the  lesson  to- 
gether, to  supplement  one  another's  knowl- 

Pupils'  Com-    ^  '     .  , 

parisons  of     edge,  —  in  a  word,  to  enter  into  that  legitimate 
Bachother'a  emulation   without   which    a    good    school  is 

Results.  .  .  ,       .  ^ 

impossible.  This  is  by  no  means  the  least 
benefit  flowing  from  the  recitation ;  perhaps  some  would 
say  it  is  the  greatest. 


THE  RECITATION-LESSON. 


93 


These  are  the  primary  objects  ,of  the  recitation-lesson, 
stated  in  their  natural  order.  _  They  have  been  presented, 
it  will  be  observed,  in  terms  of  knowledge  rather  than  of 
power,  in  the  phraseology  of  objective  not  of  subjective 
pedagogy,  for  the  very  obvious  reason  that  for  the  present 
purpose  this  is  the  most  effective  form  of  statement.  The 
propositions,  however,  can  be  readily  expressed  in  the 
other  form. 

Again  it  will  be  seen    that    the  recitation,   like    man 

himself,  looks  before  and  after,  and  that,  like  him,  it  looks 

, ,     „     after  for  the  sake  of  before.     What  the  pupil 

l^ooklngBe-  ^  .  . 

fore  and  lias  done,  from  the  teacher's  point  of  view,  is 
"^^*""  valuable  chiefly  because  it  is  the  platform  on 

which  he  will  stand  while  carrying  his  structure  still 
higher. 

The  principal  subordinate  ends  of  the  recitation  can 
only  be  enumerated.  They  are  such  as  these:  to  enable 
Subordinate  the  teacher  to  judge  of  the  efficacy  of  his 
Snds.  method  and  to  test  his  own  skill ;  to  furnish  a 

valuable  language  lesson  ;  to  give  the  pupil  an  opportunity 
to  classify  and  expand  his  thoughts  through  expression; 
to  develop  confidence  and  self-command  in  the  pupil  ;  to 
imprint  the  lesson  more  deeply  on  the  mind  ;  to  develop 
quickness  of  apprehension  and  thought ;  to  stimulate  the 
pupils  to  renewed  activity,  and  to  disclose  to  the  teacher 
their  mind  and  character. 

II.    STEPS   OF   THE   RECITATION-LESSON. 

Here,  as  before,  the  view  must  be  confined  to  the  most 
„  .^  ^   ^     important  features  of  the  subject. 

Method  of  ^  ■' 

Conducting  The  first  question  is  whether  there  is  any 
Recitations,  m^jversal  method,  or  any  order  to  which 
all  recitations,  or   all  good    recitations,    must   conform. 


94  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

Stated  in  this  way,  the  question  must  be  answered 
in  the  negative.  Much  depends  upon  the  subject,  the 
Noinflex-  stage  of  the  subject  that  has  been  reached,  the 
ibie  Method,  pupil,  the  teacher's  aim,  and  the  means  at  hand. 
To  quote  from  Mr.  P.  A.  Barnett : 

"  There  are  no  '  methods '  which  we  can  apply  rigidly  to  stated 
cases.  The  only  infallible  prescription  is  that  the  teacher  should  be  in- 
fallible ;  for  so  we  come  back  to  the  greatest  of  all  teaching  rules  : 
to  become  good  teachers  we  must  teach  well.  The  best  we  can 
do  is  to  take  the  pupil  by  the  hand  and  to  feel  the  way  with  him, 
not  merely  for  him."  i 

And  yet  we  must  agree  with  the  common  opinion  that, 
as  this  writer  expresses  it,  "  in  the  midst  of  all  diversity 
But  a  Gen-  the  true  type  of  teaching  is  constant.  The 
eraiType.  diversity  arises  inside  the  universal  scheme, 
which  all  good  teachers  follow ;  the  differences  are  in  de- 
tails, which  are  modified  to  suit  individual  cases,  but  in 
details  only.  The  main  process  alters  only  in  so  far  as  its 
stages  are  more  explicit  or  less  explicit."^  This  type  is 
universal  because  good  teachers  have  always  tended  to 
approximate  it,  but  few  of  them  have  given  it  an  articu- 
late form.  In  fact,  it  was  first  formulated  by  Herbart  and 
his  disciples,  in  what  they  called  the  "  formal  steps  of 
teaching,"  viz. :  preparation,  presentation,  comparison, 
generalization,  and  application.  These  steps  will  now  be 
briefly  explained. 

First,  however,  the  aim  of  the  lesson  should  be  clearly 
Aim  of  stated   to    the   pupil,    because   (i)  the  pupil's 

Wesson  mind  is  thus  focalized  upon    the    subject  ;  (2) 

stated.  ^j^^  pupil  is  placed  in  the  midst  of  a  new  circle 

of  ideas  that  claim  his  attention  and  which  at  once  call  up 

1  Common   Sense  in  Education  and   Teaching,    New    York,  Longmans, 
Green  &  Co.,  1899,  p.  6. 

2  Ibid,  p.  7. 


THE  REGIT  A  TION-LESSON.  '  95 

his  old  and  related  ideas  ;  (3)  expectation,  which  is  an 
important  form  of  interest,  is  excited,  while  (4)  the 
child,  stimulated  by  a  clear  perception  of  what  he  is 
expected  to  do,  makes  an  effort  to  do  it,  or  to  use  his 
will. 

1.  Preparation.  —  This  consists  in  freshening  up  and  call- 
ing clearly  to  the  mind  of  the  child  older  ideas  that 
Prepara-  bear  upon  the  new  ones,  and,  by  their  simi- 
tion.  larity,  explain  and  assist  the  understanding  of 
the  new.  In  the  language  of  our  special  subject,  the  rela- 
tion of  the  last  lesson  to  the  present  one  is  made  plain. 
In  this  way  the  soil  of  the  mind,  if  the  expression  may  be 
allowed,  is  gotten  ready  for  the  new  seed.  This  step  con- 
sists plainly  enough  of  analysis. 

2.  Presentation.  —  This  step  involves  joining  on  the 
new  lesson  to  the  old  one,  or  the  new  ideas  and  facts 
Presenta-  to  the  old  ideas  and  facts  ;  or,  to  employ  the 
tion.  former  figure,  the  new  seed  is  cast  into  the 
ground  which  has  been  prepared  for  it. 

3.  Comparison  (also  called  Association^. — This  step 
brings  together  in  the  mind  the  newly-won  ideas,  com- 
compari-  pares  them  with  one  another,  with  older  ideas 
^°"-  and  with  additional  new  ideas  that  will  be  pre- 
sented— it  compares  the  new  and  the  old  and  combines 
them  into  one  complete  whole.  This  step  is  analytic  in 
the  beginning,  but  synthetic  in  the  end. 

4.  Gencralir:ation  (also  called  Systcni).  —  This  means 
the  inference  from  the  data  now  present  in  the  mind  of 
oeneraiiza-  ^  principle,  law,  general  statement,  or  what  in 
tion.  matters  of  practice  is  called  a  rule.  This  is  an 
act  of  induction,  and,  in  the  narrow  sense  of  the  term  in- 
duction, is  synthetic,  since  the  particulars  arc  made  to 
converge  in  one  general  truth. 


96  THE  AR T  OF  STUD  V. 

5.  Application  (or  Practical  Applicatioji).  —  The  fourth 
step  leaves  the  mind  in  possession  of  a  general  or  ab- 
A  li  ti  n  ^^''^ct  idea.  But  general  ideas  arc  not  of  prac- 
tical value  until  they  are  applied  to  new  cases 
or  particulars.  And  teaching  is  incomplete  until  the  pupil 
is  shown  how  to  make  such  applications  for  himself. 
This  step,  which  is  purely  deductive,  will  claim  our  atten- 
tion again  in  a  future  chapter. 

Such  are  the  steps  involved  in  the  complete  teaching 
process.  It  is  almost  needless  to  say  that  many  teaching 
processes  do  not  embrace  all  these  steps,  and  so  are  in- 
complete ;  they  are,  for  the  time,  defective  at  the  begin- 
ning, middle,  or  end.  Still  more,  it  is  often  perfectly 
proper  that  teaching  processes  should  not  embrace  all 
these  steps  since  that  is  neither  possible  nor  necessary. 
These  are  abridged  teaching  processes.^ 

We  may  now  put  the  three  learning  exercises  of  the 
school  and  the  five  formal  steps  of  teachingin  parallel  lines. 
It  is  plain  that  the  steps  may  all  fall  into  the  study-recita- 
tion, although  that  is  not  so  much  the  proper  place  for  ap- 
plications as  it  is  for  the  earlier  steps.    Plainly,  too,  the  five 


'  A  recent  review  of  Mr.  Bamett's,  Conifrion  Sense  iti  Education  and 
Teaching,  illustrates  the  five  formal  steps  in  the  following  manner  :  "  Take, 
for  instance,  a  proposition  of  Euclid.  The  first  step,  that  of  Preparation, 
is  found  in  the  preceding  propositions.  The  second  step,  of  Presentation, 
appears  in  the  general  enunciation,  followed  by  the  construction  and  the 
application  of  the  enunciation  to  that  construction.  The  third  step,  Com- 
parison, follows  when  the  subsidiary  lines  are  drawn  and  the  different 
parts  of  the  figure  are  considered,  with  the  result  for  the  construction. 
The  fourth  step,  Abstraction,  is  taken  when  it  is  considered  that  the  like 
would  be  true  of  any  similar  construction,  so  that  the  proposition  may  be 
stated  in  general  terms.  But  the  theorem  is  certainly  not  yet  understood, 
unless  the  pupil  is  now  able  to  take  for  himself  the  fifth  step,  that  of 
^practical  Application." — The  Nation,  No.  iSii,  p.  210. 


THE  RECITATIOX-LESSON. 


97 


steps  may  all  occur  in  the  study-lesson,  if  we  may  speak 
i,earning  of  the  pupil  as  being  his  own  teacher.  And, 
and  Teach-   finally,  it  is   equally  plain    that    all    the    steps 

ing  In  Par-  l  i  •         ,  • 

aiieiwnes.   maybe  taken  ni  the  recitation-lesson,  although 
most  of  the  work  involved  in  preparation,  and 
much  of  that  involved  in  presentation,  falls  naturally  into 
the  study-recitation  and  the  study-lesson. 

Intimately  connected  with  the  recitation  is  the  art  of 
asking  questions.  Questioning  is  sometimes  called  a  probe 
Artof  Ques- ^vith  which  the  teacher  examines  the  pupil's 
tioning.  mind  as  a  surgeon  examines  a  wound  ;  and  some- 
times a  plummet  with  which  the  teacher  sounds  the  depths 
of  the  mind,  as  a  sailor  measures  the  sea  with  his  lead.  It  is 
indeed  both  a  probe  and  a  plummet,  but  it  is  far  more  — 
it  is  a  magician's  wand  with  which  new  knowledge  is  sum- 
moned into  life.  Skillful  questions  cause  the  pupil  to 
define  his  facts  ;  to  clarify  his  ideas  ;  to  put  facts  and  ideas 
together  in  new  relations  ;  to  compare  ;  to  judge,  and  to 
draw  inferences, — mental  operations  which  develop  our 
higher  knowledge.  Socrates,  borrowing  the  name  from 
his  mother's  trade,  called  his  method  maieutic,  and  the  in- 
strument with  which  he  assisted  his  pupils  to  give  birth  to 
the  children  of  their  minds  was  questioning.  We  must, 
therefore,  pay  more  than  passing  attention  to  this  art. 

Sir  J.  G.  Fitch  recognizes  three  kinds  of  questions,  the 
Three  kinds  preliminary,  or  experimental ;  the  one  employed 
tions.  i'^  instruction  ;   and  the  one   employed   in  ex- 

amination ;  and  defines  them  as  follows  : 

"  There  is,  first,  \.\\q preliminary  or  experiincnial (\w&%\!\ox\,  by  which 
an  instructor  feels  his  way,  sounds  the  depths  of  his  pupil's  previous 
knowledge,  and  prepares  him  for  the  reception  of  what  it  is  designed 
to  teach. 

"  Then,  secondly,  there  is  the  question  employed  in  actual instruc- 

A  rt  of  Study  — 7. 


98  Tin-:  ART  or  stud  v. 

Hon,  by  means  of  which  the  thouffhts  of  the  learner  are  exercised,  and 
he  is  compelled,  so  to  speak,  to  take  a  share  in  giving  himself  the 
lesson. 

"  Thirdly,  there  is  the  question  of  examination,  by  which  a  teacher 
tests  his  own  work,  after  he  has  given  a  lesson,  and  ascertains  whether 
it  has  been  soundly  and  thoroughly  learned."  ^ 

The  first  of  these  questions  goes  naturally  with  what 
the  Herbartians  call  preparation,  the  second  with  presen- 
tation, the  third  with  comparison.  While  all 
Each^Kind  ^^ree  may  be  used  in  the  study-recitation,  the 
first  and  second  fall  there  more  naturally. 
Again,  the  third  question  belongs  especially  to  the  reci- 
tation-lesson, and  here  it  is  employed  mainly  in  testing 
what  the  pupil  has  learned.  The  instruction  question 
is  serviceable  in  imparting  real  knowledge.  The  emi- 
nent teacher  referred  to  by  Fitch,  who  said  he  first 
questioned  the  knowledge  into  the  mind  of  the  child  and 
then  questioned  it  out  again,  used,  in  the  first  instance,  the 
instruction  question,  and  in  the  second  one,  the  examina- 
tion question. 

As  to  the  character  of  the  teacher's  questions,  we  need 
only  repeat  the  same  writer's  admonitions,  that  such 
questions  should  be  clear,  terse,  pointed,  and  capable  of 
being  answered  not  with  a  mere  yes  or  no  or  with  a  single 
word.  They  should  be  continuous,  and  such  that  the 
pupil  may  fairly  be  expected  to  answer  them. 

Still  another  rule  is  that  the  questioning  should  not  all 
Fitch  on  be  confincd  to  the  teacher.  This  rule,  Sir  J.  G. 
tioning.  Fitch  puts  in  a  paragraph  so  admirable  that  I 
shall  venture  to  quote  it  in  full : 

"The  art  of  putting  a  good  question  is  itself  a  mental  exercise  of 

1  The  Art  of  Questioning,  New  York,  E.  L.  Kellogg  &  Co.,  1888. 


THE  RECITA  TIOX-LESSOX. 


99 


some  value,  and  implies  some  knowledge  of  the  subject  in  hand.  You 
are  conscious  of  this  when  you  yourselves  interrogate  your  class. 
Bear  this  in  mind,  therefore,  in  its  application  to  the  scholars.  Let 
them  occasionally  change  their  attitude  of  mind  from  that  of  receivers 
and  respondents  to  that  of  inquirers.  Remember  Bacon's  aphorism, 
Prudensquacstio,  dimidium  scientiae.  You  are  halfway  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  a  thing,  when  you  can  put  a  sensible  question  upon  it.  So  I 
have  sometimes  heard  a  teacher  towards  the  end  of  a  lesson  appeal  to 
his  pupils,  and  say  to  them  one  by  one,  '  Put  a  question  to  the  class 
on  what  we  have  learned  ! '  To  do  this,  a  boy  must  turn  the  subject 
round  in  his  mind  a  little  and  look  at  it  in  a  new  light.  The  knowl- 
edge that  he  is  likely  to  be  challenged  to  do  it  will  make  him  listen  to 
the  lesson  more  carefully,  and  prepare  himself  with  suitable  questions  ; 
and  whether  he  knows  the  answer  or  not,  there  is  a  clear  gain  in 
such  an  effort.  The  best  teachers  always  encourage  their  scholars  to 
ask  questions.  The  old  discipline  in  the  Mediaeval  Universities  of 
posers  and  disputations,  in  which  one  student  proposed  a  thesis  or  a 
question,  and  another  had  to  answer  it,  was  not  a  bad  instrument  for 
sharpening  the  wits.  In  a  modified  way,  it  may  be  well  to  keep  this 
in  view,  and  to  set  scholars  occasionally  to  question  one  another."  ^ 

It  may  be  added  that  Alcuin,  the  great  teacher  at  the 
court  of  Charlemagne,  required  his  scholars  to  ask  the 
questions  while  he  answered  them. 

It  is  important  to  remember  that  questions  may  be  in 
excess  of  the  legitimate  use  of  the  school.  They  are 
Mr  Barnett  ^li^ost  purely  analytical,  and  therefore  leave 
onQues-  knowledge  in  fragments.  "  The  excessive  use 
on  ng.  ^j  questions,"  says  Mr.  Barnett,  "  is  a  worship 
of  mere  machinery."  In  particular,  the  habit  that  puts  all 
or  most  of  the  questions  in  the  mouth  of  the  teacher  is  a 
part  of  that  ill-adjustment  of  the  teacher  to  the  pupil 
which  it  is  the  purpose  of  this  book  to  correct.  In  the 
words  of  the  author  just  quoted  : 

i  Lectures  on  Teaching,  New  York,  K.  I-  Kellogg  &  Co.,  i8S6,  Chap.  vL 
p.  172. 


I oo  THE  ART  OF  STUD  Y. 

"  After  all,  it  should  be  remembered  that  in  the  common  order  of 
nature  it  is  the  person  needing  instruction  who  usually  asks  questions, 
not  the  person  giving  it.  Why  should  the  nature  of  things  be  topsy- 
turvy in  the  schoolroom  ?  It  is  not  so  at  home.  Why  should  the 
questioner  in  school  be  almost  always  the  teacher  instead  of  the 
learner  ?  Our  business  is  to  make  our  scholars  feel  the  lack  of  infor- 
mation, desire  to  ask  questions  ;  to  encourage  them  to  find  out  what 
they  can  for  themselves,  and  to  be  keen  to  hear  what  we  have  to  add 
to  their  stock.  T/iey  must,  in  fact,  question  tts ;  or,  at  all  events, 
stand  in  the  attitude  of  those  who  want  to  know."i 

Nowhere  is  it  more  important  than  in  the  recitation  to  re- 
member that  language  is  not  knowledge.  Hobbes  has  said 
_  that  words  are  the  counters  of  wise  men,  the 

uotKnowi-  money  of  fools.  To  study  is  to  get  knowledge 
*  ^^'  out  of  the  printed  page ;  to  recite  is  to  express 

knowledge  in  oral  or  written  words ;  but  experience  shows 
that,  comparatively  speaking,  knowledge  may  be  omitted 
in  both  cases.  The  pupil,  especially  if  gifted  with  verbal 
memory,  naturally  falls  into  that  mistake,  since  he  must, 
at  recitation  time,  have  "  something  to  say  "  ;  the  regimen 
of  the  school  often  invites  the  mistake,  and  fond  parents 
sometimes  glory  in  its  results.  Hence  the  teacher  must 
stand  guard  at  this  point,  resorting  freely  to  the  two  great 
correctives,  —  questioning  and  the  study  of  concrete  real- 
ities.^ 

^  Common  Sense  in  Education  and  Teaching,  New  York,  Longmans, 
Green  &  Co.,  1899. 

'  None  but  those  who  have  looked  curiously  into  the  matter  have  much 
idea  of  the  extent  to  which  children,  and  even  adults,  are  ignorant  of 
the  meaning  of  words  that  are  perfectly  familiar  to  them.  Dr.  Trumbull, 
the  distinguished  writer  on  Sunday-schools,  tells  some  amusing  anecdotes 
that  illustrate  the  fact.  First,  he  mentions  the  boy  in  Mrs.  Horace  Mann's 
school  who  didn't  want  to  be  good  because  he  thought  it  meant  "  ter-be 
whipped."  He  tells  of  an  old  church  member,  commonly  supposed  to  be 
intelligent  in  Scripture,  who  did  not  know  what   Christ's  "passion  "  men- 


TJ/i:  RECITATI OX-LESSON.  lOI 

At  the  same    time,    to  say    that  a  child  should  learn 

nothing  by  heart  is  to  commit  an  error  almost  equal  to 

saying  he  should  never  be  told  anything  that 

b^^^^^rt  ^^  ^^'^  ^"^  °"^  ^^^  himself.  Some  things  he 
should  learn  by  heart,  as  many  of  the  formulas 
in  which  knowledge  is  compactly  expressed.  Mention 
may  be  made  of  the  multiplication  table,  mathematical 
definitions  and  axioms,  the  definitions  and  rules  of  gram- 
mar, some  of  the  symbols  of  chemistry,  the  canons  of 
formal  logic  — about  these  there  can  be  no  question,  pro- 
vided always  the  pupil's  studies  take  so  wide  a  range. 
Then  the  child  should,  first  and  last,  memorize  a  certain 
amount  of  literature,  especially  poetry.  Literature  con- 
sists of  two  elements,  the  conceptions  of  the  author  and 
the  words  in  which  he  expresses  those  conceptions  —  the 
substance  and  the  form.  The  thought  is  in  the  words, 
just  as  the  painter's  thought  is  in  the  canvas,  or  the  sculp- 
tor's in  the  marble,  and  the  two  cannot  be  separated  with- 
out destroying  the  literature.  The  inference  is  not  that 
the  pupil  should  commit  to  memory  all  the  literature  that 
he  studies,  much  less  all  that  he  reads,  but  that  he  should 
commit  enough  to  furnish  his  mind  with  a  fund  of  beauti- 
ful   literary  forms.     To  this  end,   what  are   technically 

tioned  in  the  first  chapter  of  Acts  of  the  Apostles  was.  Another  story  is 
of  a  bright  Sunday-school  scholar,  twenty-five  years  old,  who  asked  who 
"  the  despised  Galilean  "  was.  The  Doctor  found  also  that  one  of  his  own 
daughters,  who  was  familiar  with  trees  and  meadows,  did  not  know  what 
"  the  woods  "  was,  and  winds  up  with  a  farm  boy  who,  as  he  left  for  church 
on  Sunday  morning,  was  directed  by  his  mistress  to  remember  where  the 
minister's  text  was.  He  reported  on  his  return,  "  I  don't  quite  know, 
Ma'am,  but  I  think  it  was  somewhere  down  by  the  door !  "  The  fact  was, 
he  had  spent  the  morning,  not  in  listening  to  the  sermon,  but  in  trying  to 
discover  \\\^  place  of  the  text. — See  Teaching  and  Teachers,  H.  Clay  Trunv 
bull,  Philadelphia,  John  D.  WatUes,  1884. 


102  THE  ART  01^^  STUDY. 

called  "  recitations,"  which  are  so  prominent  a  feature  on 
exhibition  days,  are  to  be  encouraged  within  proper 
bounds.  Still  more,  the  admonition  that  children  should 
understand  what  they  learn,  which  is  a  plain  intimation 
that,  to  the  popular  mind,  learning  does  not  always  in- 
volve understanding,  need  not  be  too  rigidly  insisted 
upon.  The  child  should  not  be  allowed  to  fill  his  mind 
with  words,  but  literary  appreciation  is  a  thing  of  degrees, 
and  we  grow  up  to  great  literary  compositions. 

The    language    of  the  lesson,    like    the    matter    itself, 

should     be    adapted     to     the     pupil's    capacity.      The 

,   voung-   pupil,    for   example,    cannot    take    his 

I,anguage  to  -^  *»     ^      ^     '  '       '  ^ 

be  Adapted  mental  food  in  abstract  forms,  or  m  large 
to  the  Pupil,  qujji^tities.  To  present  to  him  a  large  subject, 
especially  in  unfamiliar  words,  is  like  holding  out  to  him 
a  loaf  of  bread,  expecting  him  to  eat  it  at  a  single  mouth- 
ful.  As  Dr.  Harris  has  said  :  "  The  child's  mind  cannot 
seize  great  syntheses.  He  bites  off,  as  it  were,  only  small 
fragments  of  truth  at  best.  He  gets  isolated  data,  and 
sees  only  feebly  the  vast  network  of  interrelations  in  the 
world.  This  fragmentary,  isolated  character  belongs 
especially  to  primary  education." 

A  sentence  or  two  will  suffice  respecting  the  relative 
value  of  oral  and  written  recitations.  Both  should  be 
Oral  and  used  in  proper  proportions  ;  oral  recitations 
Written        develop   quickness  of  thought  and  expression. 

Recitations.  .,.,.,,  ,  7, 

versatility,  and  fullness  of  ideas  ;  written  reci- 
tations develop  definiteness  and  accuracy  of  knowledge 
and  terseness  and  compactness  of  expression. 
s^'^A  few  words  will  suffice  also  for  what  the  pupil  forgets. 
It  is  true  enough  that,  in  so  far  as  he  uses  his  knowl- 
edge as  he  goes  along,  it  has  present  practical  value,  but 
in  respect  to  his  future  lessons  the  knowledge  that  he 


THE  RECITA  TIOX-LESSON. 


103 


gains  to-day  is  but  a  step  to  the  knowledge  that  he  is  to 
gain  to-morrow.     Thus  viewed,  knowiedcfe  that 

Forgotten       f      ,  .  .        .  ,  •        ,         . 

Knowledge.  IS    forgotten,  It  may  be  iorever,    has  its  lasting 
uses.     The  builder's  scaffolding  is  temporary, 
t)ut  it    is   still  necessary  to  the  erection  of  the  permanent 
structure. 

In  answering  questions  the  time  element  is  important. 
Some  pupils  are  quick,  others  slow,  and  neither  the  quick- 
ness of  the  one  nor  the  slowness  of  the  other 

The  time 

Element  in  is  a  proper  gauge  of  his  ability  or  knowledge. 
Question-  Some  teachers,  again,  require  prompt  answers, 
others  are  content  with  slow  ones ;  the  proper 
rule  is  the  golden  mean.  If  the  teacher  allows  too  little 
time  to  pupils  they  tend  to  become  agile  but  superficial ; 
if  too  much  time,  they  tend  to  inattention  and  indolence. 
Radestock  says  :  **  The  child  must  be  accustomed  to  give 
one  impression  time  to  take  root,  and  not  follow  it  im- 
mediately by  a  corresponding  action,  that  it  may  not  pass 
away  with  that  action  into  air."  He  also  quotes  Lazarus  : 
"Deep  thinking  requires  time;  it  is,  therefore,  a  great 
pedagogical  mistake  if  teachers — as  is  now  generally  done 
— urge  their  pupils  to  answer  rapidly,  and  praise  those 
who  immediately  have  an  answer  ready.  This  causes 
everything  to  be  lowered  to  a  mere  effort  of  me- 
chanical memory.  The  pupils  should  be  given  time  for 
individual  contemplation,  for  deep  and  energetic  thought- 
labor,"  ^  If  a  strong  scholar,  the  teacher  is  apt  to  over- 
estimate the  ability  of  his  class,  especially  in  connection 
with  the  time  that  they  require  to  see  through  things,  or  to 
think  them  out.  This  is  one  reason  why  strong  scholars 
are  not  always  strong  teachers.     This  tendency  is  well 

^  Habit  ami  its   Tniportaiue   in    Kdniatioii,  IJostoii,  1).  C  Heath  iV  Co., 
1887,  pp.  36,  37. 


104  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

illustrated  by  an  interesting  passage  in  the  sketch  of 
Professor  Pierce,  perhaps  the  greatest  mathematical 
genius  our  country  has  produced,  found  in  Dr.  A.  P. 
Peabody's  pleasant  volume  entitled  Harvard  Reminis- 
cences. The  two  men  were  at  one  time  charged  with 
teaching  all  the  mathematics  then  taught  in  Harvard 
College,  and  alternated  in  some  of  the  classes.  Peabody 
says  he  was  in  one  respect  Pierce's  superior  because  he 
was  in  other  respects  so  much  his  inferior. 

"  No  one  was  more  cordially  ready  than  he  to  give  such  help  as  he 
could  ;  but  his  intuition  of  the  whole  ground  was  so  keen  and  compre- 
hensive, that  he  could  not  take  cognizance  of  the  slow  and  tentative 
processes  of  mind  by  which  an  ordinary  learner  was  compelled  to 
make  his  step-by-step  progress.  In  his  explanations  he  would  take 
giant  strides ;  and  his  frequent  '  You  see '  indicated  that  he  saw 
clearly  that  of  which  his  pupil  could  get  hardly  a  glimpse.  I,  on 
the  other  hand,  though  fond  of  mathematical  study,  was  yet  so  far 
from  being  a  proficient  in  the  more  advanced  parts  of  the  course, 
that  I  studied  every  lesson  as  patiently  and  thoroughly  as  any  of  my 
pupils  could  have  done.  I,  therefore,  knew  every  short  step  of  the 
way  that  they  would  be  obliged  to  take,  and  could  lead  them  in  the 
very  footsteps  which  I  had  just  trodden  before  them."  ^ 

Parallel  Reading. — The  Method  of  the  Recitation,  C.  A. 
McMurry  and  F.  M.  McMurry,  Bloomington,  111.,  Public 
School  Publishing  Co.,  1898.  Herhart  and  the  Herbartiaris, 
Charles  DeGarmo.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1895. 
Chap.  V.  ("Method  in  Teaching").  Common  Sense  in  Edu- 
cation and  Teaching,  P,  A.  Barnett.  New  York,  Longmans, 
Green  &  Co.,  1899.  Chap.  I.  ("Instruction  as  Discipline"). 
Practical  Hints  for  the  Teachers  of  Public  Schools,  George  How- 
land.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1889.  Chap.  VIIL 
("  The  Class  Recitation").  Lectures  on  Teaching,  Sir  J.  G.  Fitch. 
New  York,  E.  L.  Kellogg  &  Co.,  1886.  Chap.  VI.  ("  Examin- 
ing")- 
'  Harvard  Rem iiiiiceiices.  New  York,  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  pp.  183, 1S4. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ATTENTION  :    ITS  NATURE,  KINDS,  AND  VALUE. 

There  have  been  writers  who  maintained  that  atten- 
tion  is  a  special  faculty  of  the  mind,  like  perception, 
The  General  "^^"^'^''y'  ^^  imagination.  None,  that  I  am 
Sense  of       awarc  of,  now  hold  that  view,  but  all  regard 

Attention.  it       i.-  .v  ^    ^  i-,-  r 

attention  rather  as  a  state  or  condition  of 
mind  in  which  any  one  of  the  intellectual  faculties  may 
manifest  itself.     It  is  a  predominant  intellectual  state. 

In  a  broad  sense  every  act  of  consciousness  is  an  act  of 
attention  ;  you  attend  to  the  object  that  you  know,  al- 
Two  Kinds  though  you  may  know  it  feebly,  as  compared 
of  Con-         with  the  object  that  you  do  not  know  and  so 

do  not  attend  to  ;  but  this  is  not  the  com- 
mon acceptation  of  the  word.  Usage  limits  it  rather  to 
acts  of  knowing  that  have  a  certain  character  or  possess 
a  certain  quality.  Attention  is  a  narrower  term  than 
knowledge  or  consciousness;  we  know  things,  or  are 
conscious  of  things,  to  which  we  do  not  give  attention 
in  the  accepted  sense  of  the  word. 

The  matter  may  be  put  in  another  way.  Conscious- 
ness is  a  name  that  we  give  to  all  states  of  mind,  or  to 
all  mental  operations.  It  is  seen  in  two  forms  —  diffused 
consciousness  and  concentrated  consciousness,  the  second 
being  what  we  call  attention.  Messrs.  Dexter  and  Garlick 
present  the  simple  facts  in  this  way  : 

105 


1 06  THE  AR  T  OF  S TUD  V. 

"  (a)  Suppose  I  am  looking  at  a  small  object  by  artificial  light.  I 
cannot  see  it  distinctly.  I  interpose  a  lens  between  my  eye  and  the 
object.  The  light  is  concentrated  on  the  object  and  I  see  it  dis- 
tinctly. JVow  consciousness,  like  light,  seems  to  increase  in  vividness 
in  proportion  as  it  is  concentrated  on  one  spot. 


"  (b)  Two  boys  are  talking  in  an  undertone  in  the  class.  The 
teacher  is  dimly  conscious  of  a  '  noise  '  in  the  room  ;  he  thinks  there 
is  a  noise,  but  is  not  certain.  He  begins  to  listen,  to  concentrate  his 
mind,  as  it  were,  upon  the  supposed  sound.  He  identifies  it  as  a  sound 
of  conversation,  and  localizes  the  sound  as  coming  from  the  two  boys 
who  are  talking.  The  boys  are  talking  no  louder  at  the  conclusion 
than  at  the  beginning  of  the  incident,  but  the  teacher  has  by  his  act 
of  attention  given  greater  distinctness  and  vividness  to  his  conscious- 
ness."^ 

Attention,  then,  involves  energetic  or  intensive  know- 
ing, and  it  results  from  fixing  some  measure  of  mental 
Attention  povvcr  upon  one  object  or  a  small  group  of  ob- 
iiiustrated.  jects,  and  withholding  it  from  the  other  objects 
in  the  field  of  consciousness.  Thus,  as  I  ride  along  the 
road  I  notice  a  flock  of  sheep  and  a  herd  of  horses  in  the 
field;  my  mental  state  is  one  of  diffused  consciousness. 
But  I  may  attend  to  the  horses  alone,  allowing  the  sheep 
to  fall  largely  or  wholly  out  of  my  mind,  and  vice  versa  ; 
or  I  may  attend  to  some  one  particular  horse  or  sheep 
that  captures  my  eye,  to  the  partial  or  total  exclusion  of 
all  the  others,  and  of  all  competing  objects  of  knowledge. 
Accordingly,  attention  is  a  selective  act  of  the  mind,  one 
or  more  objects  being  chosen  for  intensive  knowing  to 
the  exclusion  of  the  others.     It  involves  abstraction,  that 

^  Psycholo^^y  in  the  Schoolroom.  New  York,  Longmans,  Green  &  Co., 
1898,  page  28. 


ATTENTION.  10/ 

is,  the  withdrawing  of  mental  power  from  certain  objects 
to  fix  it  upon  one  or  a  small  number  of  others. 

The  word  "  attention  "  is  derived  from  the  Latin  ad, 
meaning  "  to,"  and  tendere,  meaning  "  to  stretch,"  and  so 
moio  ^^^^  ^^^^  etymological  meaning  of  stretching  to 
of'Atten-  something.  Tension,  which  means  primarily 
'  °**'"  a  strain  upon  some  material  thing,  as  a  rope  or 

a  muscle,  comes  from  the  same  Latin  verb.  Thus  atten- 
tion shows  us,  in  a  figure,  the  mind  in  a  state  of  tension  or 
strain,  similar  to  that  placed  upon  the  rope  or  muscle. 
Moreover,  the  strain  that  comes  upon  the  mind  in  atten- 
tion is  often,  if  not  commonly,  accompanied  by  a  similar 
physical  experience. 

The  external  signs  of  attention  are  not  to  be  mistaken. 
Thus,  in  certain  forms  of  attention,  the  eyes,  the  ears,  the 
External  ^rms  Sometimes,  the  whole  body  perhaps, 
Signs  of        "  converge  "  towards  their  object,  "  all  motions 

Attention.  ,      i      »»    ^^  i*^        •  j^  j  »> 

are  arrested  ;  our  personality  is  captured, 
that  is,  all  the  tendencies  of  the  individual,  all  his  avail- 
able energy,  aims  at  the  same  point.  Again,  it  has  been 
remarked  that  in  extreme  cases  the  mouth  opens  .wide, 
while  in  children  and  in  many  adults  close  attention 
produces  protrusion  of  the  lips,  a  kind  of  pouting.  The 
word  "  tension  "  no  doubt  passed  from  the  material  into 
the  mental  sphere  because  of  a  supposed  resemblance  be- 
tween the  bodily  and  the  mental  states. 

Still  other  similitudes  are  employed  to  explain  the 
nature  of  attention.  One  of  the  most  common,  as  well 
.^^    .,  as  one  of  the  most  effective,  is  that  of  the  lens. 

Attention  ' 

the  Lens  of  "Attention  is  to  consciousness  what  contrac- 
the  Mind,     ^j^j^  ^f  ^^^  p^jpjj  j^  ^^  light,"  says  Sir  William 

Hamilton  ;  "  or  to  the  eye  (if  the  mind  what  the  microscojic 
is  to  the  bodily  eye."     Professor   Dewey  speaks  to  the 


I08  THE  ART  OF  STUD  V. 

same  effect.  "  In  attention  we  focus  the  mind,  as  the 
lens  takes  all  the  light  coming  to  it,  and,  instead  of  al- 
lowing it  to  diffuse  itself  evenly,  concentrates  it  in  a  point 
of  great  light  and  heat." 

The  action  of  the  mind  in  attention  may  also  be  likened 
to  the  action  of  the  machine  used  in  the  laboratory  to 
Attention  a  condense  air,  or  to  produce  high  degrees  of 
Condensing  atmosplicric  prcssurc.  A  pressure  of  fifteen 
pounds  on  the  square  inch,  which  is  normal, 
is  called  one  atmosphere;  multiples,  as  thirty  pounds  and 
forty-five  pounds,  are  called  two  and  three  atmospheres, 
etc.  So  we  might  by  analogy  speak  of  one  or  more  at- 
mospheres of  consciousness  or  of  knowing  power. 

Attention  presents  to  our  view  many  interesting  phases. 
For  one  thing,  it  is  difficult  to  know  when  it  begins 
„    .     5         and  when  it  ends,  so  insensible  is  the  transition 

Beginning  ' 

and  End  of  from  the  Ordinary  state  of  consciousness  to  at- 
tention, and  again  from  attention  to  the  ordi- 
nary state  of  consciousness.  "  It  embraces  all  degrees, 
from  the  transient  instant  accorded  to  the  buzzing  of  a  fly 
to  the  state  of  complete  absorption." 

Another  interesting  question  is,  To  how  many  things 
can  the  mind  attend  at  once  ?  But  this  is  of  little  interest 
for  us  here,  because  it  is  well  known  that  effective  study 
demands  as  close  a  limitation  of  the  mind  to  the  objects 
of  study  as  possible. 

Again,  it  is  important  to  remark  that  attention  is  not 
limited  to  external  or  material  objects,  but  relates  to 
Extends  to  ^''^^^''tal  objects  as  well.  It  is  just  as  easy,  or 
Internal  even  morc  so,  to  attend  to  a  man's  thoughts  or 
feelings  provided  he  gives  expression  to  them, 
as  it  is  to  attend  to  his  attire  or  bodily  actions.  Then, 
I  can  attend  to  my  own  unexpressed  thoughts  and  feelings 


A  TTENTION. 


109 


in  consciousness,  and  am  often  compelled  to  attend  to 
them  to  the  exclusion  of  external  objects. 

Furthermore,  attention  may  take  the  direction  of  any 
cognitive  faculty,  as  perception,  memory,  or  thought. 
May  Take  Attentive  perception  is  energetic  perception; 
the  Direc-  attentive  memory,  energetic  memory  ;  attentive 
cognuive^  reflection,  energetic  reflection.  The  effects  of 
Faculty.  attention  are  well  known  ;  they  give  a  fuller 
and  better  knowledge  of  the  object  than  the  difTused  con- 
sciousness. My  ordinary  observation  of  a  horse,  for  ex- 
ample, gives  me  a  general  idea  of  the  horse,  my  attentive 
observation  gives  me  a  minute  and  thorough  knowledge ; 
and  so  of  the  other  kinds  of  attention. 

We  have  seen  that  attention  involves  the  fixing  of  the 
mind  upon  some  object  or  objects,  or  that  it  is  the  con- 
centration of  the  mind  upon  such  object  or 
Att'enti^m  objects.  But  this  is  not  all ;  the  element  of 
time  enters  into  the  activity.  Attention,  as 
commonly  understood,  involves,  not  merely  the  fixing  of 
the  mind  upon  an  object,  but  also  the  holding  of  it  upon 
this  object.  The  second  element  is  as  important  as  the 
first  one.  We  may  go  back  to  the  similitude  of  the  lens  : 
to  be  effective,  the  glass  must  be  constructed  so  that  it 
will  focalize  the  rays  of  light  and  heat,  and  must  then 
be  held  in  one  position  long  enough  to  make  this  focal 
point  a  burning  point.  The  most  powerful  burning 
glass  will  not  set  gunpowder  on  fire  if  it  is  kept  in  active 
motion,  while  an  instrument  of  much  inferior  power  will 
ignite  substances  not  accounted  inflammable  if  it  is 
held  steadily  in  one  place. 

As  there  are  two  states  or  kinds  of  consciousness,  so 
there  are  two  kinds  of  attention.  The  distinction  be- 
tween them    refers    to    the    effort    involved   in  the    act. 


I  lo  THE  ART  OF  STUD  V. 

Some  acts  of  attention  are  not  marked  by  conscious 
effort ;  other  acts  are  so  marked,  and  sometimes  very 
Passive  and  strongly.  Attention  shown  in  the  first  class 
Active  At-  of  cases  is  called  passive ;  that  shown  in  the 
second  class,  active.  The  first  kind  is  also 
known  as  reflex,  spontaneous,  automatic,  and  involuntary 
attention;  the  second  as  voluntary  or  volitional  attention. 
The  central  fact  is  this  :  in  passive  attention  the  will  is  not 
present,  while  in  active  attention  it  is  always  present,  and 
often  in  a  very  energetic  form.  But  we  must  take  a  closer 
view  of  the  subject. 

In  passive  attention  some  object  is  present  to  the  mind 
that  draws  to  itself  the  mind's  energy  or  power.  Another 
way  to  state  the  same  thing  is  to  say  that 
Att^e^ntion  ^^^^^  object  attracts  the  mind  ;  and  still  an- 
other that  it  controls  or  commands  the  at- 
tention. The  word  "  attract  "  used  in  this  connection 
suggests  a  familiar  fact  which  has  perhaps  prompted  its 
use.  If  you  bring  a  magnet  within  a  certain  distance  of 
a  bit  of  iron  or  steel  that  is  free  to  move,  it  attracts  the 
metal  to  itself  and  holds  it  in  its  own  grasp.  In  passive 
attention  the  object  may  come  into  the  mind's  way  inci- 
dentally, or  it  may  be  thrown  into  its  way  intentionally  by 
some  outside  cause ;  it  does  not  matter  so  long  as  the 
object  chooses  the  mind  or  attracts  it.  Still  further,  the 
object  may  be  an  external  or  an  internal  one ;  it  may  be 
the  discharge  of  a  cannon  or  the  mental  image  of  some 
absent  friend;  but,  whether  the  object  be  external  or  in- 
ternal, it  makes  no  difference  so  long  as  it  holds  the  mind 
in  its  own  firm  embrace. 

In  active  attention,  on  the  other  hand,  the  mind  itself 
selects  the  object  of  knowledge  and  holds  it  captive. 
There  is  an  act   of   choice  or  volition.     In  other  words, 


A  TTEXTIOX  1 1  I 

this    act  of  selection  proceeds  from  the  will,  and  this  fact 

gives  to   this    species    of    attention  its  name, 

Active  voliuitary.     As    before,    the    object    may   be 

external  or  internal,  but  the  act  is  voluntary 

if  it  proceeds  directly  from  choice. 

A  French  writer  has  said  that  passive  or  reflex  atten- 
tion makes  the  child  seem  to  belong  less  to  himself  than 
to  every  object  which  happens  to  catch  his 
T^o  Kinds     nQtJce      But    active    or   voluntary   attention 

of  Impulse.  ^  -^ 

makes  the  object  the  mind's  own  possession. 
The  impulse  in  the  one  case  is  from  without  inward,  in 
the  other  case  from  within  outward.  The  two  kinds  of 
movement  may  be  likened  to  the  impulses  that  move  on 
the  afferent  and  the  efferent  nerves,  the  first  running  from 
the  surface  of  the  body  to  the  brain,  the  second  from  the 
brain  to  the  surface  of  the  body. 

It  is  apparent,  therefore,  that,  while  passive  attention  is 
spontaneous,  active  attention  springs  from  cultivation. 
Actiye  ^^'  f*'"^y^r  points  out  that,  in  the  earliest  period 

Attention       of  its  life,  the  child  is  capable  of  spontaneous 

attention  only ;  it  fixes  its  gaze  upon  sJiin- 
ing  objects  and  upon  the  faces  of  its  mother  or  nurse ; 
and  it  is  only  about  the  end  of  the  third  month  that  it 
explores  its  field  of  vision  more  fully  and  by  degrees  rests 
its  eyes  upon  objects  that  are  less  interesting.  Volitional 
attention  comes  much  later.  Ribot  remarks  that  it 
"  originates  of  necessity,  under  the  pressure  of  need,  and 
with  the  progress  of  intelligence.  It  is  an  instrument 
that  has  been  perfected, — a  product  of  civilization." 

What  Ribot  says  of  attention  as  a  whole,  viz.,  that  it 
"  supposes  the  existence  of  a  master  idea  drawing  to  it- 
self all  that  relates  to  it  and  nothing  else,  allowing  solici- 
tations to   produce  themselves   only  within  very  narrow 


1 1 2  THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 

limits,  and  on  conditi-on  that  they  converge  toward  a 
common  point,"  is  more  particularly  true  of  passive 
attention. 

The  high  value  of  attention,  its  necessity  to  high  attain- 
ments of  any  kind,  above  all,  its  relations  to  study  and 
education,  both  as  a  cause  of  success  in  the 
of^AtT^nUon  ''tudent,  and  again  as  an  object  to  be  sought 
after  in  discipline — these  things  flow  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  act.  Sir  William  Hamilton  has  dis- 
cussed this  branch  of  the  subject  with  great  ability,  pre- 
senting many  interesting  historical  examples  of  what 
attention  may  accomplish.  It  will  be  well  worth  our 
while   to  transcribe  a  portion  of  his  discussion. 

"  The  difference  between  an  ordinary  mind  and  the  mind  of  a  New- 
ton consists  principally  in  this,  that  the  one  is  capable  of  the  applica- 
tion of  a  more  continuous  attention  than  the  other, — that 

Sir  William    ^  Newton  is  able  without  fatigue  to  connect  inference 

Hamilton  on  . 

Attention.       with  inference  in  one  long  series  towards  a  determinate 

end ;  while  the  man  of  inferior  capacity  is  soon  obliged 
to  break  or  let  fall  the  thread  which  he  had  begun  to  spin.  This  is, 
in  fact,  what  Sir  Isaac,  with  equal  modesty  and  shrewdness,  himself 
admitted.  To  one  who  complimented  him  on  his  genius  he  replied 
that,  if  he  had  made  any  discoveries,  it  was  owing  more  to  patient  at- 
tention than  to  any  other  talent.  There  is  but  little  analogy  between 
mathematics  and  play-acting;  but  I  heard  the  great  Mrs.  Siddons, 
in  nearly  the  same  language,  attribute  the  whole  superiority  of  her 
unrivaled  talent  to  the  more  intense  study  which  she  bestowed  upon 
her  parts.  If  what  Alcibiades,  in  the  Syjnposiwn  of  Plato,  narrates  of 
Socrates  were  true,  the  father  of  Greek  philosophy  must  have  pos- 
sessed this  faculty  of  meditation  or  continuous  attention  in  the  highest 
degree.  The  story,  indeed,  has  some  appearance  of  exaggeration ; 
but  it  shows  what  Alcibiades,  or  rather  Plato  through  him,  deemed 
the  requisite  of  a  great  thinker.  According  to  this  report,  in  a  mili- 
tary expedition  which  Socrates  made  along  with  Alcibiades,  the  phi- 
losopher was  seen  by  the  Athenian  army  to  stand  for  a  whole  day  and 


ATTENTION. 


113 


a  night,  until  the  breaking  of  the  second  morning,  motionless  with  a 
fixed  gaze, — thus  showing  that  he  was  uninterruptedly  engrossed  with 
the  consideration  of  a  single  subject.  '  And  thus,"  says  Alcibiades, 
'  Socrates  is  ever  wont  to  do  when  his  mind  is  occupied  with  inquiries 
in  which  there  are  difficulties  to  be  overcome.  He  then  never  mler- 
rupts  his  meditation,  and  forgets  to  eat,  and  drink,  and  sleep, — every- 
thing, in  short,  until  his  inquiry  has  reached  its  termination,  or,  at 
least,  until  he  has  seen  some  light  in  it.'  In  this  history  there  may 
be,  as  I  have  said,  e.xaggeralion  ;  but  still  the  truth  of  the  principle 
is  undeniable.  .  .  . 

"  These  e.xamples  and  authorities  concur  in  establishing  the  im- 
portant truth,  that  he  who  would,  with  success,  attempt  discovery, 
either  by  inquiry  into  the  works  of  nature,  or  by  meditation  on  the 
phasnomena  of  mind,  must  acquire  the  faculty  of  abstracting  him- 
self, for  a  season,  from  the  invasion  of  surrounding  objects  ;  must  be 
able  even,  in  a  certain  degree,  to  emancipate  himself  from  the  dominion 
of  the  body,  and  live,  as  it  were,  a  pure  intelligence,  within  the  circle  of 
his  thoughts.  This  faculty  has  been  manifested,  more  or  less,  by  all 
whose  names  are  associated  with  the  progress  of  the  intellectual 
sciences.  In  some,  indeed,  the  power  of  abstraction  almost  degener- 
ated into  a  habit  akin  to  disease,  and  the  examples  which  now  occur 
to  me  would  almost  induce  me  to  retract  what  I  have  said  about  the 
exaggeration  of  Plato's  history  of  Socrates. 

"  Archimedes,  it  is  well  known,  was  so  absorbed  in  a  geometrical 
meditation  that  he  was  first  aware  of  the  storming  of  Syracuse  by  his 
own  death-wound,  and  his  exclamation  on  the  entrance  of  Roman 
soldiers  was  —  Noli  tiirbare  circiilos  meos.  In  like  manner,  Joseph 
Scaliger,  the  most  learned  of  men,  when  a  Protestant  student  in  Paris, 
was  so  engrossed  in  the  study  of  Homer,  that  he  became  aware  of  the 
massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  and  of  his  own  escape,  only  on  the  day 
subsequent  to  the  catastrophe.  The  philosopher  Carneades  was 
habitually  liable  to  fits  of  meditation,  so  profound,  that,  to  prevent  him 
from  sinking  from  inanition,  his  maid  found  it  necessary  to  feed  him  like 
a  child.  And  it  is  reported  of  Newton  that,  while  engaged  in  his 
mathematical  researches,  he  sometimes  forgot  to  dine.  Cardan,  one 
of  the  most  illustrious  of  philosophers  and  mathematicians,  was  once, 
upon  a  journey,  so  lost  in  thought,  that  he  forgot  both  his  way  and 
the  object  of  his  journey.  To  the  questions  of  his  driver  whither  he 
should  proceed,  he  made  no  answer  ;  and,  when  he  came  to  himself  at 

Art  0/ Study— i. 


I  i  ^  T//E  A  A' T  OF  STUD  V. 

nightfall,  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  carriage  at  a  standstill,  and  di- 
rectly under  a  gallows.  The  mathematician  Vieta  was  sometimes  so 
buried  in  meditation  that  for  hours  he  bore  more  resemblance  to  a 
dead  person  than  to  a  living,  and  was  then  wholly  unconscious  of 
everything  going  on  around  him.  On  the  day  of  his  marriage  the 
great  Budasus  forgot  everything  in  philological  speculations,  and  he 
was  only  awakened  to  the  affairs  of  the  external  world  by  a  tardy  em- 
bassy from  the  marriage  party,  who  found  him  absorbed  in  the  com- 
position of  his  Commentarit. 

"  It  is  beautifully  observed  by  Malebranche,  '  that  the  discovery  of 
truth  can  only  be  made  by  the  labor  of  attention  ;  because  it  is  only 
the  labor  of  attention  which  has  light  for  its  reward  ' ;  and  in  another 
place  :  '  The  attention  of  the  intellect  is  a  natural  prayer  by  which  we 
obtain  the  enlightenment  of  reason.'  "  ^ 

Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter  relates  that  John  Stuart  Mill 
thought  out,  or  mentally  composed,  much  of  his  great 
John  Stuart  work  on  Logic  while  walking  between  his  lodg- 
Miii.  ings  in  London  and  the  India  House,  picking 

his  way  through  the  crowded  thoroughfares,  so  unmind- 
ful of  what  was  going  on  about  him  that  he  even  failed 
to  notice  his  familiar  acquaintances  who  chanced  to  meet 
him  in  the  throng  of  passengers. 

The  terms  "  absent-minded  "  and  "  absent-mindedness," 
are  often  used  in  connection  with  such  facts  as  are 
related  in  the  stories  told  of  Socrates  and 
Mindedness  Mr,  Mill.  The  implication  is  that  the  mind 
and  Distrac-Qf  the  person  thus  employed  has  in  someway 
escaped  from  him — is  absent,  in  a  word.  This 
is  just  as  you  look  at  it  ;  the  fact  is  that  his  mind  is 
absent  from  the  things  right  about  him  because  it  is  ab- 
sorbed in  things  of  another  description.  Ribot  applies  to 
this  state  of  mind  the  word  "distraction."  "  Thus  there 
are  people,"  he  says,  "  who,  wholly  absorbed  by  some  idea, 

1  Lectures  on  Metaphysics  and  Logic.  New  York,  Butler,  Sheldon  &  Co., 
1868,  Lecture  XIV. 


ATTENTION.  II5 

are  also  really  distracted  in  regard  to  what  takes  place 
around  them  ;  they  afford  no  hold  to  external  events, 
and  allow  the  latter  to  flit  by  them  without  penetrating 
their  mind.  Such  people  appear  incapable  of  attention 
for  the  very  reason  that  they  are  very  attentive."  ^ 

The  effects  of  attention  and  absorption  of  mind  are  by 
no   means   confined   to  the  mental   sphere  ;  on   the   con- 
trary some  of  the  most  striking  of  such  effects 
Physical       relate  to  the  body.     For  example,  it   is  well 

Bffect  of  At-  ■'  '  . 

tention.  known  that  mental  preoccupation  will  deaden 
for  the  time  physical  pain,  A  public  speaker, 
becoming  interested  in  his  theme,  forgets  the  toothache 
or  rheumatism  that  was  torturing  him  when  he  began 
his  discourse,  and  that  is  sure  to  return,  perhaps  with  re- 
doubled effect,  when  he  has  finished  speaking.  A  boy 
who  is  eagerly  pursuing  a  rabbit,  or  playing  ball,  does  not 
notice  at  the  time  the  severe  cut  or  bruise  that  he  has 
received  on  his  bare  foot  from  a  pointed  stick  or  a  sharp- 
edged  stone;  while  soldiers  in  the  heat  of  battle  do  not 
always  become  immediately  sensible  of  the  wounds  that 
they  have  received.  It  is  well  known,  also,  that  bodily 
ailments,  even  severe  ailments,  may  be  brought  on  by 
thinking  intently,  long,  and  often,  of  some  particular  part 
of  the  body.  "  In  this  way  it  often  happens,"  says  Dr. 
•  Carpenter,  "  that  a  nvr/malady  supervenes  upon  \.\\(i  fancied 
ailments  of  those  in  whom  the  want  of  helpful  occupa- 
tion for  the  mind  leaves  it  free  to  dwell  upon  its  mere 
sensations;  whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  the  strong  expecta- 
tion of  benefit  from  a  particular  mode  of  treatment  will 
often  cure  diseases  that  involve  serious  organic  change."^ 

*  The  Pyschology  of  Attention.    Chicago,  Open  Court  Pub.  Co.,  1890,  p.  78. 

"^  Principles  of  Mental  Physiology.     New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1886, 
p.  145. 


1 1 6  THE  ART  OF  STUD  V. 

Parallel  Reading,  —  Ta//!s  to  Teachers  on  Psychology  and 
to  Students  on  Some  of  Life's  Ideals,  William  James.  New 
York,  Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  1899.  Chap.  XH.  ("  Attention"). 
Lectures  on  Metaphysics  and  Logic,  Sir  William  Hamilton.  New 
York,  Butler,  Sheldon  &  Co.,  1868.  Lecture  XIV.  ("  Atten- 
tion in  General").  Psychology  in  the  Schoolroom,  T.  F.  G.  Dex- 
ter and  A.  H.  Garlick.  New  York,  Longmans,  Green  &  Co., 
1898.     Chap.  III.  ("  Attention"). 


CHAPTER  XIIT. 

PASSIVE   ATTENTION  :    INTEREST. 

The  last  chapter  was  devoted  to  defining  attention, 
discriminating  its  kinds,  and  marking  out  its  scope  and 
RecapUu-  value.  More  definitely,  we  saw  that  attention 
lation.  jg  tiie  act  of  the  mind  when  concentrated  or 

focused  on  some  particular  thing  or  subject  ;  that  there 
are  two  kinds  of  attention,  passive  and  active,  and  that 
they  sometimes  assume  forms  of  great  energy.  We  also 
remarked  the  place  that  attention  holds  in  the  mental  life. 

We  must  not  suppose,  however,  that  the  value  of  atten- 
tion is  limited  to  intellectual  pursuits  ;  it  extends  to  the 
■^  ,       rA*  whole  practical  world  as  well.     In  fact,  it  is  no 

Value  of  At-  ^  ' 

tention  in  exaggeration  to  say  that  a  man's  power  of  at- 
«cat  on.  |.gj^^.JQj^  often  determines  his  success  or  failure  in 
life,  involving  his  ability  to  use  effectively  his  powers, 
both  of  mind  and  body.  It  is,  therefore,  obvious  that 
the  cultivation  of  the  child's  attention  is  a  matter  of 
prime  importance  in  the  conduct  of  his  education,  and 
that  the  subject  needs  careful  study.  We  shall  deal  first, 
in  two  chapters,  with  passive  attention,  and  afterwards,  in 
two  more,  with  active. 

There  are  some  elementary  facts  relating  to  the  subject 

that  should  be  dealt  with  before  we  take  up  the  practical 

117 


1 18  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

question  of  the  development  or  cultivation  of  the  passive 
attention. 

I.  The  first  of  these  facts  is  that  the  earliest  acts  of  at- 
tention on  the  part  of  the  child  are  reflex  or  passive  acts. 
As  is  well  known,  the  human    infant  is  born 

Child's  ,  ,.      ,     ,  1  1       II  .1  11 

First  Acts     blind,  but  he  gradually  acquires  sight  and  the 
of  Attention  ^yorld  of  vision  is  slowly  opened  to  him.     At 

PasslTe. 

first  this  world,  or  the  very  small  portion  of  it 
that  comes  within  his  range,  floats  before  him  vague  and 
indefinite;  but  ere  long  he  begins  to  notice  particular 
things,  or  they  begin  to  arrest  his  mind.  "  At  a  very 
early  age  indeed,"  says  M.  Compayre,  "  there  are  moments 
of  keen  consciousness  when  all  the  intelligence  the  child 
possesses  is  concentrated  on  one  point,  when  he  is  fasci- 
nated, for  instance,  by  a  light  or  bright  color.  The  ex- 
ternal signs  of  attention  show  themselves  then  :  the  eye 
is  fixed ;  the  child  is  motionless,  plunged  into  a  sort  of 
stupor  of  ecstasy."^  He  may  be  fascinated  also  by 
sounds  as  well  as  sights.  We  have  a  report  of  a  girl  three 
months  old  who  was  attentive  to  all  about  her,  even  to 
the  very  noise  of  a  step  on  the  floor;  and  another  of  a 
boy  who,  when  a  month  old,  noticed  the  gestures  of  those 
that  spoke  to  him  and  was  perceptibly  influenced  by  their 
words.  These  simple  acts  of  attention  are  the  beginnings 
of  that  power  to  focus  the  mind  which  reaches  its  fully 
developed  form  in  such  examples  as  those  narrated  in  the 
last  chapter.  But  they  are  distinctly  reflex  ;  at  this  stage 
of  life  the  child  has  no  will  that  can  focus  his  mind  or 
perform  any  similar  act :  his  mind  is  focused  from  with- 
out and  not  from  within  ;  and  this  continues  to  be  the 
case  for  a  considerable  period. 

1  Intellectual  and  Moral  Dez'elopment  of  the  Child.     New  York,  D.  Apple- 
ton  &  Co.,  1896.     Part  I.,  p,  272. 


PASSIVE  ATTENTION:  INTEREST.  ug 

2.  It  is  clear  that  in  passive  attention  the  object   has 
some  peculiar  attraction  for  the  mind  or  some  peculiar  influ- 

ence  over  it.     "  Fascination  "  is  M.  Compavr^'s 

nation."        word.      T  or  example,    as  a  pupil    in  school  is 

of  the  Ob-  toilinf^  away  at  his  arithmetic,  a  brass  band  that 
ject.  .  . 

is  passing  on   the   street    suddenly  strikes    up 

a  tune,  and  his  attention  at  once  forsakes  his  lesson 
and  follows  the  music.  Under  the  circumstances  the 
boy  brings  his  mind  back  to  the  arithmetic  only  with 
great  difficulty,  if  at  all.  Indeed,  it  may  be  with  dif- 
ficulty that  he  resists  the  impulse  to  leave  his  seat 
and  rush  to  the  window  to  see  the  band.  It  is  evident, 
therefore,  that  there  is  something  for  the  boy's  mind  in 
the  music  that  is  not  in  the  arithmetic.  Now  what  is  this 
something?  We  have  for  this  question  no  better  answer 
than  that  the  band  is  interesting,  while  the  arithmetic  is 
not,  or  that  the  band  is  more  interesting  than  the  arith- 
metic. The  question  why  the  one  is  more  interesting 
than  the  other,  we  shall  for  the  present  postpone. 

3.  It  is  also  well  known  that  objects  which  attract   the 
attention  of   some  minds  do   not  attract  the    attention 

of  others,  or  do  not  attract  them  with  equal 
Factors        Strength.     In  other  words,  what  is  interesting 

to  one  person  is  not  necessarily  interesting,  or 
equally  interesting,  to  another  person.  Much  depends  upon 
age,  association,  individual  pursuits,  range  of  experience, 
individual  temperament,  and  a  variety  of  other  circum- 
stances. What  takes  the  attention  of  a  child  may  not 
take  the  attention  of  a  man ;  what  takes  the  attention  of 
a  boy  may  not  take  the  attention  of  a  girl,  and  so  on. 
The  teacher  of  the  school  referred  to  above  will  probably 
be  less  interested  in  the  band  than  the  school  children,  or 
his  interest   may   be  of  a  wholly  different  kind,   relative 


,2o  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

to  keeping  school  in  order.  Again,  what  takes  one  child's 
attention  may  not  take  another's.  One  child  in  a  clover 
field  will  run  after  the  blossoms,  another  after  the  butter- 
flies. A  dozen  persons,  we  will  suppose,  look  out  of  the 
windows  of  the  same  railway  car  as  it  moves  from  station 
to  station  across  the  country  ;  the  same  panorama  passes 
before  the  eyes  of  all  of  them ;  they  all  form  a  general 
picture  or  idea  of  this  panorama,  perhaps,  but  even  if  so, 
they  do  not  see — that  is,  give  attention  to — the  same  things. 
One  attends  to  the  forests  and  fields,  a  second  to  the 
growing  crops,  a  third  to  the  vehicles  and  people  on  the 
roads,  a  fourth  to  the  animals  in  the  fields,  while  a  fifth 
observes  two  or  more  of  these  groups  of  objects.  The 
explanation  of  such  familiar  facts  as  these  is  easy  :  these 
persons  do  not,  generally  speaking,  consciously  select  the 
objects  that  they  particularly  observe,  but  follow  their  in- 
terests, which  differ  one  from  another ;  that  is,  their  atten- 
tion is  reflex.  Again,  a  dozen  persons  reading  the  same 
newspaper  will  be  impressed,  perhaps,  by  some  of  the  same 
things,  because  they  have  some  interests  in  common,  but 
beyond  this  there  is  great  diversity,- — one  attends  to  the 
fashion  pictures,  another  to  the  reports  of  games,  and  still 
another  to  the  market  reports.  Here,  however,  the  will 
is  likely  to  play  a  part,  as  indeed  it  may  in  the  case  of  the 
railway  passengers,  different  persons  selecting  different 
things. 

4.  Equally  well  known  is  the  fact  that  an  object  which 
is  attractive  to  a  child  or  a  man  at  one  time  is  not  attract- 
Time  and  ivc  to  him  at  another  time.  Here,  too,  much 
Place.  depends  upon  circumstances.     There  are,  per- 

haps, no  absolutely  persistent  interests.  A  child  is  not  in- 
terested in  his  picture-book,  or  a  man  in  his  newspaper,  if 
he  is  very  sick.     Ordinarily  a  man  may  not  closely  observe 


PASSIVE  A  TTENTION:  INTEREST.  \  2 1 

the  carriages  that  roll  along  the  street,  but  he  will  be  likely 
to  do  so  if  he  is  about  to  purchase  one  himself.  A  band 
playing  in  the  park  of  a  great  city  may  not  even  be  heard 
by  thousands  of  people,  but  it  would  be  pretty  sure  to 
attract  them  if  they  were  on  a  country  road.  Then,  some 
objects  are  more  attractive  at  one  time  than  another.  The 
boy  in  school  forgets  for  a  moment  his  arithmetic  in 
the  presence  of  the  band,  but  if  his  mother,  whom  he  has 
not  seen  for  a  year,  were  at  the  same  moment  to  enter 
the  schoolroom,  he  would  probably  not  even  notice  the 
band  in  joy  at  seeing  her.  Still  another  important  ob- 
servation is  that  objects  change  in  their  attractiveness 
with  the  passage  of  time,  some  becoming  more  and 
some  less  interesting.  The  characteristic  interests  of 
childhood  are  very  different  from  the  characteristic  in- 
terests of  manhood,  and  vice  versa.  Tops,  marbles,  and 
hoops  please  us  when  we  see  them  in  the  hands  of  chil- 
dren, but  in  the  hands  of  men  they  are  ridiculous. 

The  interest  that  attaches  to  language  is  often  alto- 
gether out  of  proportion  to  its  intrinsic  importance  :  who 
signifi-  utters  it,  and  when,  and  where  ?  are  decisive 
cance  of  questions.  A  whole  family  will  wait  for  the 
baby's  first  spoken  word  with  almost  bated 
breath.  And  yet  that  word  is  pure  imitation  and,  to  the 
child,  means  nothing.  Again,  a  man's  last  words  are  lis- 
tened to  with  a  very  different  but  perhaps  an  equal  inter- 
est. 

"  O,  but  they  say,  the  tongues  of  dying  men 
Enforce  attention  like  deep  harmony." 

But  it  is  well  known  that  the  tongues  of  dying  men  often 
move  automatically  and  convey  no  real  meaning.  Interest 
is  therefore  no  measure  of  value. 


1 2  2  THE  A  R  T  OF  S  TUD  V. 

The  question  has  been  asked  why  certain  objects  attract 

the    minds  of  children  in   greater  or  less  degree,    while 

others  do  not.    The  answer  has  been  given  that 

Interest.  ,  .  ,   •  .  ,  .,  , 

the  attractive  objects  are  interesting  to  children 
while  the  unattractive  are  not  interesting.  This  brings 
the  subject  of  interest  fully  before  us.  No  better  defini- 
tion can  be  given  than  the  one  furnished  by  Dexter  and 
Garlick.  "  Interest  is  the  name  given  to  the  pleasurable 
or  painful  feelings  which  are  evoked  by  an  object  or  idea, 
and  which  give  that  object  or  idea  the  power  of  arousing 
and  holding  the  attention."  These  authors  quote  another 
writer  to  this  effect  :  "  Whatever  does  not  interest  the 
mind,  that  the  mind  is  indifferent  to,  and  whatever  it  is 
indifferent  to  is  to  that  mind  as  if  it  had  no  existence."  ^ 
But  why  are  some  objects  or  ideas  more  interesting 
than  others  ?  This  question  cannot  be  answered  in  any 
Source  of  final  or  conclusive  sense.  Sir  William  Hamilton 
Interest.  ^^|jg  wonder  the  mother  of  knowledge  ;  other 
writers  speak  of  novelty,  curiosity,  and  astonishment, 
much  in  the  same  way ;  while  M,  Compayre,  seeking  the 
causes  that  turn  the  child's  mind  from  one  object  to  an- 
other, writes : 

"  The  first  is  the  novelty  of  impressions,  for  novelty  renders  impres- 
sions more  intense.     As  a  general  rule,  anything  that  is  presented  to 
the  child  for  the  first  time  will  captivate  him  and  occupy 

ompayre       j^j^^    ^^^  several   moments  at  least.     Astonishment,  the 
on  Novelty. 

surprise  which  every  unexpected  appearance  causes,  are 

attentive  states." 

Still  other  stimuli,  he  says,  are  the  different  emotions 
that  the  child  is  capable  of  feeling.     He  mentions 

^  Psychology  in  the  Schoolroom.      New  York,  Longmans,  Green  &  Co., 
1898,  p.  31. 


PASSIVE  ATTENTION:  INTEREST. 


123 


"  The  agreeable  emotions ;  above  all,  those  that  naturally  captivate 
the  senses,  because  the  desire  for  pleasure  is  satisfied ;  for  instance, 
all  that  tickles  the  appetite  of  hunger  or  of  thirst  ;  later,  all  that  calls 
forth  sympathy  and  affection.  But  the  disagreeable  emotions,  too, 
are,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  starting  point  of  the  attentive  emotions."^ 

This  is  all  very  true  ;  novelty,  for  example,  is  a  source 
of  interest.     The  family  horse  may  not  attract  much  at- 
tention   in  the   pasture  or  stable,  but  he  cer- 
Noveitya       tainly  will  become  interesting  if  he  finds  his 

Source  of  ■'  ° 

Interest.  way  into  the  pantry.  But  this  is  only  carry- 
ing the  difficulty  one  step  farther  back.  The 
question  comes  up  at  once,  Why  the  novel  or  unexpected, 
why  wonder  or  astonishment,  is  a  source  of  interest?  and 
we  cannot  give  any  final  answer ;  we  only  know  that  it  is 
so. 

It  is  quite  clear,  then,  that  passive  attention  is  a  feature 
of  great  interest  or  value  in  human  life.  What  are  the 
things  that  interest  us  ?  What  are  the  objects,  external 
or  internal,  that  steal  away  our  minds  and  hold  them  cap- 
tive? Upon  this  question,  in  no  small  degree,  do  indi- 
vidual usefulness  and  happiness  depend.  Let  us  follow 
the  topic  a  little  farther. 

I.  Attention  is  not  a  continuous,  but  a  discontinuous, 

state.     No  mind  can  be  strained    continuously  without 

serious  consequences.     Every  attentive  state 

Attention  ,        .      ,  ^  .^  ,  „  . 

Discontin-      of  mmd,  cvcu   if  only  reflex,  is  accompanied 

^°^^-  by  a  tax  on  the  physical  energies,  the  nerves 

and  brain  ;  and  if  such  states  were  continuous,  and  espe- 
cially if  intense,  the  body  would  soon  tire  out.  For  a 
considerable  part  of  our  waking  hours,  to  say  nothing  of 

1  The  lutellectual  and  Moral  Dn'ehpntefit  of  the  Child.  New  ^'ork,  D. 
Appleton  &  Co.,  1896.     Part  I.,  pp.  276,  278. 


J 24  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

our  sleeping  ones,  we  merely  float  upon  the  stream  o{ 
consciousness.  Objects  external  and  internal  pass  before 
us  without  waking  us  up  to  real  acts  of  attention ;  but 
we  are  liable  at  any  moment  to  be  thus  waked  up  by 
some  object  that  appeals  to  us,  or  the  will  may  arouse  us 
by  an  act  of  choice.  Were  it  not  for  these  periods  of 
mental  rest,  or  comparative  mental  rest,  we  should  soon 
wear  out :  we  could  not  bear  the  waste  of  nervous  power 
that  would  result  from  continuous,  severe  mental  applica- 
tion. It  is  true  that  minds  differ  greatly  in  their  capacity 
for  continuous  activity,  but  no  mind  will  long  bear  in- 
tense  stimulation. 

Every  one  knows  by  experience  that,  as  Ribot  says,  at- 
tention is  always  accompanied  by  a  feeling  of  effort, 
which  bears  a  direct  proportion  to  the  dura- 
panied'by  ^ion  of  the  state  of  mind,  and  the  difificulty  of 
Feeling  of  maintaining  it.  Whatever  the  cause  may  be, 
the  fact  is  unmistakable.  In  many  instances 
the  feeling  of  effort  is  for  the  time  swallowed  up  in  the 
very  depths  of  attention  ;  but  when  the  end  comes  and 
the  strain  is  over,  weariness,  or  exhaustion,  or  collapse 
even,  follows. 

So  those  states  in  which  the  mind  acts,  but  does  not 
act  with  vigor,  have  an  important  function  in  the  econ- 
omy of  life  ;  in  many  conditions  they  furnish  all  the  cogni- 
tive activity  that,  for  the  time,  is  needed.  Indeed,  the 
mind  does  most  of  its  work  without  paying  attention  to 
such  work  ;  that  is,  it  does  it  in  a  state  of  diffused  con- 
sciousness. Thus,  I  do  most  of  my  walking  without 
taking  real  heed  to  my  steps.  Hence,  from  this  point  of 
view,  it  is  dif^cult  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of  the 
automatic  mental  machinery. 

2.  But  these  comparatively  inactive  states  of  mind  do 


PASSIVE  ATTENTIOX:  INTEREST.  125 

not  always  answer  the  purpose.  There  are  times  and 
Attention  places  where  fleetin<,^  mental  impressions  will 
Essential  to  not  suffice  ;  our  well-being,  our  very  safety  or 

life,  depends  upon  the  mental  powers  being 
thoroughly  aroused ;  and  in  such  cases  we  must  give 
heed,  or  pay  attention,  to  what  concerns  us.  Many  of 
the  most  serious  interests  of  life  fall  into  this  class  of  ob- 
jects. Mere  drifting,  mere  living,  never  made  a  success- 
ful man  in  the  proper  sense  of  that  term.  Action — wise, 
well-directed  action — is  the  key  to  success.  Other  things 
being  equal,  or  greatly  unequal,  for  that  matter,  men  are 
successful  in  the  work  of  their  hands  or  minds  in  the 
ratio  of  the  serious  attention  that  they  give  to  such  work. 
But  the  attention  that  is  so  essential  to  success  need 
not  be,  and  cannot  be,  all  voluntary  attention.     In  the 

first   place,  if  the  will  must  exert  itself  every 

AH  Atten-  .  ^  .  .  .  ,,      ,      r  , 

tion  Cannot  time  an  act  of  attention  is  called  for,  the 
be  voiun-       mind  will  soon  tire  out,  because  the  vifjorous 

tary.  .  . 

action  of  the  will  is  an  operation  that  involves 
much  waste  of  nerve  and  brain  force.  The  reflex,  or  au- 
tomatic, acts  of  the  mind  are  easier,  and,  so  to  speak, 
cheaper  than  the  voluntary  acts.  Again,  the  reflex  activ- 
ities of  the  mind  are  always  swifter  and  sometimes  more 
vigorous  than  the  voluntary  activities.  Accordingly,  re- 
flex attention  appears  in  the  common  and  necessary  func- 
tions v/hen  ease  and  promptness  of  action  are  necessary. 
It  appears  also  in  emergencies.  Thus  a  man  attends  to 
his  toilet  on  arising  in  the  morning  without  formally  will- 
ing to  do;  or,  as  he  walks  along  the  street,  he  mechan- 
ically dodges  a  shower  of  bricks  and  mortar  when  a  work- 
man on  a  scafTold  above  him  cries  out,  "  Stand  from 
under!  "  It  is  with  the  mint!  somewhat  as  it  is  with  the 
body.     The  fly  that  lights  upon  your  cheek  is  dislodged 


1 26  THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 

by  the  involuntary  twitching  of  the  muscle  that  is  dis- 
turbed, perhaps  without  your  knowing  that  the  fly  is 
there,  or  a  crumb  of  bread  lodged  in  your  windpipe  is 
expelled  automatically — the  will  rendering  no  service 
whatever  in  either  case. 

The  voluntary  attention,  as  we  shall  see  in  a  succeed- 
ing chapter,  is  especially  reserved  for  those  important 
Office  of  matters  that  admit  of  more  or  less  delay  or 
Voluntary  hesitation.  It  marches  side  by  side  with  de- 
liberation. In  comparison  with  this  noble 
office,  reflex  attention  may  seem  to  play  but  a  humble 
part  in  the  economy  of  life.  The  fact  is,  however, 
that  it  plays  a  very  important  part.  It  is  the  very 
highest  form  of  mental  activity  in  the  child,  and  it  gives 
character  to  the  life  of  the  savage.  In  truth,  as  time  goes 
on,  the  field  of  reflex  attention  widens,  or  the  mental  life 
becomes  more  automatic,  as  will  be  explained  hereafter. 

Parallel  Reading.  —  T/ie  Psychology  of  Attention,  Th. 
Ribot.  Chicago,  Open  Court  Publishing  Co.,  1890.  Herbart 
and  the  Herbartians,  Charles  DeGarmo.  New  York,  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons,  1895.  Part  I.,  Chap.  V.  ("The  Doctrine  of 
Interest  ").  The  Elements  of  Ge?ieral  Method  Based  on  the 
Principles  of  Herbart,  C.  A.  McMurry.  Bloomington,  111., 
Public  School  Publishing  Co.,  1897.  Chap.  III.  ("Nature  of 
Interest  ").  Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology  and  to  Students  071 
Some  of  Life's  Ideals,  William  James.  New  York,  Henry  Holt 
&  Co.,  1899.     Chap.  X.  ("  Interest  "). 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  CULTIVATION  OF  PASSIVE  ATTENTION. 

We  meet  at  the  threshold  of  our  inquiry  the  law  that 
runs  through  all  mental  cultivation  and  growth, — the  law 
Mental  Ac-  of  activity.  The  mental  faculties,  in  other 
i,aw^of  *  words,  increase  through  appropriate  action. 
Growth.  The  activity  of  one  faculty  may  strengthen 
a  second  and  a  third  faculty,  but  the  rule  is  that  the 
faculties  are  most  invigorated  by  their  own  specific  ex- 
ercise. While  the  mental  faculties  are  in  no  sense  sepa- 
rate and  distinct,  but  are  all  the  manifestations  of  the  same 
mind,  it  is  still  true  that  perception  grows  mainly  through 
perception,  thought  through  thinking,  memory  through 
remembering,  etc.  At  most,  an  inactive  mind,  in  respect 
to  volume  and  power,  either  remains  stationary  or  loses 
power.  Attention  is  not,  indeed,  a  mental  faculty  in  the 
sense  that  perception  or  memory  is,  but  it  is  the  ener- 
getic activity  of  any  faculty,  and  so  is  subject  to  the  gen- 
eral law  of  growth.  Indeed,  the  growth  of  the  faculties 
consists  very  largely  in  the  increase  of  this  very  power  of 
attention.  Attention  becomes  strong  through  attending 
to  things ;  a  habit  is  formed  and  habit  makes  activity 
quick  and  easy.     This  is  the  case  with  passive  and  active 

attention  alike. 

127 


1 28  THE  A li T  OF  STUD  Y. 

Coming  to  reflex  attention,  the  first  fact  to  be  stated 
is  that  the  mind  responds  to  objects  in  the  ratio  of  their 
interest  or  attractiveness  ;  the  more  attractive  or  interest- 
ing the  object,  the  quicker  and  fuller  the  response  will  be. 
From  this  very  familiar  fact  are  derived  several  important 
rules  of  teaching. 

One  of  these  rules  is  that,  at  first,  the  objects  or  lessons 
to  be  taught  to  a  child  should  be  chosen  with  reference  to 
"T  ke  the  "^^^  interests.  Advantage  should  be  taken  of 
Child  where  such  preparation  for  instruction  as  he  has  al- 
he  is."  ready  received.     "  Take  the  child  where  he  is," 

must  be  the  teacher's  sole  motto  but  only  at  first,  for  at  a 
later  stage  this  rule  must,  in  some  measure  at  least, 
be  set  aside. 

A  second  rule  is   that,  if  the  child  does  not  respond, 

readily    enough    to   the    object    or   lesson,    the   teacher 

must  contrive  in  some  way  to  make  it  more 

i^essonsto    attractive.      Printed    language,   oral     explana- 

be  Made  In-  ,       ,   .  .  ,  ,  . 

teresting.  tion,  real  objects,  pictures  or  other  graphic 
forms  of  illustration,  offer  him  a  large  range 
in  respect  to  modes  of  presentation.  Moreover,  there 
is  an  equal  range  in  respect  to  the  combination  of  facts 
and  ideas ;  old  ideas  reenforce  new  ones,  and  new  ideas 
give  life  and  energy  to  old  ones.  One  test,  and  a  very 
high  test,  of  the  teacher's  ability  is  his  skill  in  making 
his  instruction  attractive. 

A  third  rule  is  that  the  teacher  should  take  advantage 
of  favoring  times  and  circumstances  in  the  selection  and 
presentation  of  teaching  material.  It  is  well 
Places**^  known  that  instruction  which  would  be  rejected 
at  one  time  will  be  welcomed  at  another  time. 
This  is  but  another  way  of  saying  that  the  instruction 
that  will  make  little  or  no  impression  under  some  cir- 


CULTIVATIOy  OF  PASSIVE  ATTENTION.  129 

cumstances  will  make  a  deep  and  lasting  impression  under 
other  circumstances.  The  teacher,  like  other  people, 
should  strike  while  the  iron  is  hot.  This  important  rule 
has  numerous  applications. 

A  fourth  rule  springs  from  the  fact  that  the  interest  of 

the  pupil  in  a  subject  depends  in  some  degree  upon  the 

hour  of  the  day  when   it   is  presented.     Fresh- 

Hoarsof  ^    ^^  mind,  which  is  often  only  freshness  of 

the  Day.  '  •' 

body,  is  to  be  considered.  As  a  rule,  the 
heavier  school  subjects  should  come  in  the  earlier  part  of 
the  day.  Then,  special  instruction  should  be  made  to 
harmonize,  to  a  great  extent,  with  the  passing  occurrences 
of  interest,  either  of  the  school  or  the  larger  world.  A 
dispatch  in  the  morning's  newspaper  will  often  make  the 
pupils  eager  for  a  particular  lesson  in  geography  or  his- 
tory, civics  or  literature.  When  the  body  of  the  late 
President  Faure  lay  in  state  at  the  Elys^e  in  Paris,  and 
the  election  of  his  successor  was  impending,  the  time 
was  evidently  opportune  for  teaching  the  proper  pupils  in 
the  school  the  leading  facts  relative  to  the  election  of  the 
president  of  the  French  Republic.  A  good  time  to  give 
some  special  instruction  in  the  geography  of  Cuba  would 
have  been  when  our  army  and  fleet  were  carrying  on  war 
against  the  Spaniards  in  that  island.  Good  teachers  are 
always  on  the  outlook  for  these  opportune  times  and 
seasons.  The  value  of  moral  instruction,  in  particular,  de- 
pends almost  wholly  on  its  opportuneness,  or  on  the  im- 
mediate preparation  of  the  pupils  to  receive  it. 

A  fifth  rule  is  that  if  the  teacher  cannot  after  a  suf- 
ficient trial  make  a  subject  interesting  to  a  child,  he 
Dropping  should  drop  it,  at  least  for  the  time.  This  as- 
Sabjects.  sumcs,  of  course,  that  the  teacher  is  a  com- 
petent one  and  that  the  pupil  will  continue  in  his  care. 

Art  0/ Study. — 9. 


130 


THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 


No  doubt  this  rule  is  a  difficult  one  to  apply  judiciously, 
and  we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  refer  to  it  again. 

It  will  be  said  no  doubt  that  school  instruction,  to  be 
valuable,  must  be  systematic,  that  there  must  be  a  pro- 
gramme, and  that  the  number,  kind,  and  order 

The  School    ^  .     ,  .  ,  ,  •        ,  ,  , 

Programme. of  the  exercises  cannot  be  determined  by  the 
mental  states  or  affections  of  the  children. 
This  is  perfectly  true  and  should  never  be  lost  sight  of. 
Haphazard,  go-as-you-please  teaching  is  necessarily  poor 
teaching;  instruction  must  conform  to  a  general  order. 
But  this  is  a  very  different  thing  from  denying  the  teacher 
the  right  to  study  the  moods  and  tenses  of  his  pupils,  and 
to  adapt  the  work  of  the  school  to  them,  within  reasonable 
limits.  The  programme  should  never  be  allowed  to  be- 
come tyrannous,  which  it  does  when  it  is  followed  with- 
out variableness  or  shadow  of  turning.  The  teacher  is, 
in  general,  the  leader  of  the  school,  and  not  the  school 
of  the  teacher.  He  is  not  passively  to  follow  the  whims 
and  caprices  of  the  pupils,  or  even  their  more  lasting  and 
secondary  interests.  He  is  rather  to  create  interests,  to 
control  states  of  mind,  to  lead  his  flock  ;  but  this  by  no 
means  implies  that  his  regimen  shall  be  fixed  or  arbitrary ; 
it  rather  implies  close  observation  of  the  minds  of  pupils 
and  the  adjustment  of  the  instruction  and  discipline  to 
them.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  every  one  who  leads 
must  follow.  Moreover,  these  remarks  are  particularly 
important  in  primary  schools,  where  pupils  have  little 
power  of  self-regulation. 

The  course  of  study,  if  a  good  one,  conforms  in  a  gen- 
eral way  to  the  rule  that  advantage  shall  be  taken  of 
The  Course  favoring  times  and  tides  in  arranging  instruc- 
of  study.  tion.  The  old  doctrine  that  specific  lessons 
should  be  used  for  specific  purposes,  as  memory  lessons 


CULTIVATION  OF  PASSIl'E  ATTEXTION. 


131 


for  the  memory,  observation  lessons  for  the  perceptive 
faculties,  and  so  on,  has  been  greatly  overdone,  since  any 
good  lesson  reaches  more  than  one  faculty  of  mind  ;  at 
the  same  time  certain  subjects  are  adapted  to  certain 
kinds  and  stages  of  mental  development.  Nature  lessons 
and  historical  talcs  are  presented  to  the  child  when  his 
faculties  of  observation  and  imagination  are  quick  and 
active,  and  his  curiosity  is  alert ;  while  lessons  of  a  more 
abstract  character,  as  grammar  and  theoretical  arithmetic, 
are  held  in  reserve  until  his  powers  of  reflection  are  more 
fully  developed. 

There  are  still  other  important  facts  relating  to  our 
subject  that  we  must  not  fail  to  consider.  In  itself,  in- 
terest is  a  very  changeful  thing,  as  all  practical  psycholo- 
gists know ;  nor  is  it  possible  to  understand  it  even  meas- 
urably without  indulging  in  some  analysis — going  behind 
the  abstraction  called  "  interest  "  to  consider  concrete 
interests. 

There  are  two  ways  in  which  interests  may  be  divided 
— with  reference  to  the  extent  of  tlieir  prevalence,  and 
TwoWa  s  ^^'it^^  respect  to  the  time  of  their  continuance, 
of  Dividing  Divided  in  the  first  way,  interests  are  general 
n  eres  8.  ^^^  j  individual ;  divided  in  the  second  way,  they 
are  permanent  and  temporary. 

General  interests  are  those  that  belong  to  all  normal 
minds  at  some  stage  of  their  development.  Desire  for 
General  knowledge,  lovc  of  old  things,  interest  in  new 
Interests,  things,  and  particularly  interest  in  the  junction 
of  the  new  and  the  old — these  are  universal  facts.  These 
general  interests  vary  greatly  in  strength  and  in  the  par- 
ticular direction  which  they  take,  but  they  belong,  never- 
theless, to  the  human  mind.  Unless  the  desire  for  knowl- 
edge is  universal,   universal  education    is   a   vain    hope. 


132 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


Again,  there  are  certain  kinds  of  knowledge  that  are  of 
general  interest ;  no  normal  mind,  for  example,  is  indif- 
ferent to  what  immediately  concerns  itself. 

Individual  interests  are  those  that  belong  to  particular 
persons.  All  minds  are  not  interested  in  knowing  the 
Individual  Same  things,  nor  are  all  minds  responsive  to  the 
Interests,  same  kinds  of  novelty.  Every  schoolmaster  has 
his  repertoire  of  illustrative  examples.  Sir  Walter  Scott 
took  little  interest  in  the  regulation  studies  of  the  high 
school  at  Edinburgh,  but  was  absorbed  in  the  history, 
antiquities,  and  legends  of  Scotland.  Sir  Humphry 
Davy  cared  little  for  the  studies  of  the  school,  and  was 
accounted  dull,  but  he  became  a  great  chemist.  Charles 
Darwin  was  not  interested  in  the  work  of  the  school  that 
he  attended,  and  got  little  out  of  it,  as  he  said,  except  the 
knowledge  of  chemistry  that  he  taught  himself  by  private 
experiments.  "  St.  Bernard,"  says  Dean  Farrar,  "  is  so 
dead  to  outer  impressions  that  he  travels  all  day  along 
Lake  Geneva,  and  then  asks  where  the  lake  is ;  while 
Linnaeus  is  so  sensitive  to  the  beauties  of  Nature  that, 
when  he  beholds  a  promontory  standing  boldly  forth 
and  teeming  with  beauty,  he  can  not  help  falling  upon 
his  knees  and  thanking  God  for  such  a  world." 

Permanent  interests  are  either  inherited,  and  so  belong 
to  the  original  character,  or  they  originate  in  early  habit. 
Permanent  ^nd  SO  Constitute  a  part  of  second  nature.  De- 
interests.  gij-g  fQj.  knowledge  in  some  form,  love  of  novelty 
of  some  kind,  are  permanent  interests.  So,  desire  for 
particular  kinds  of  knowledge,  as  of  animals  or  plants,  or 
particular  species  of  animals  or  plants,  maybe  permanent. 

Temporary  interests  arise  from  a  variety  of  causes. 
Some  of  them  continue  for  a  considerable  time,  while 
others  are  wholly  fleeting  and   transient.     They  do  not, 


CUL  Tl  VA  TION  OF  PASSIVE  A  TTENTION.         1 3  3 

therefore,  reflect,  as  permanent  interests  do,  the  real  char- 
Temporary  actcr  of  the  person,  either  native  or  acquired, 
Interests,  b^j-  indicate  only  the  stage  of  growth,  or  mental 
moods  dependent  upon  bodily  conditions  or  upon  environ- 
ment. Relatively,  the  interests  of  adults,  as  a  whole,  are 
far  more  permanent  than  the  interests  of  children  and 
youth.  This  is  owing  to  the  solidifying  of  the  character, 
the  development  of  the  power  of  internal  control,  and  the 
elimination  of  miscellaneous  activities  from  the  mental  life. 

The  distinctions  that  have  now  been  made,  while  often 
overlooked  or  undervalued,  are  of  the  utmost  conse- 
quence in  education ;  since  to  treat  individual  interests 
as  though  they  were  universal,  and  temporary  ones  as 
though  they  were  permanent,  or  vice  versa,  must  lead  to 
serious  evils  if  persisted  in. 

Environment  is  of  two  kinds,  natural  and  moral,  and 
both  affect  most  profoundly  our  interests,  and  through 
Influence  our  interests  our  character.  The  immeasurable 
of  Nature,  effect  of  thcse  environments  is  largely  summed 
up  in  the  word  "  imitation,"  which  is  partly  unconscious 
and  partly  conscious;  the  first  being  a  kind  of  silent  ab- 
sorption or  assimilation,  the  second  a  process  of  purpose- 
ful copying.  As  is  well  known,  a  child's  two  environ- 
ments have  very  much  to  do,  but  not  everything,  with 
determining  his  interests  in  studies.  Nature  has  inspired 
the  great  students  of  Nature.  This  is  well  expressed  in 
Longfellow's  poem,  The   Fiftieth   Birthday   of  Agassiz. 

But  it  is  with  the  moral  environment  that  we  are  more 
especially  interested,  meaning  by  "  moral  "  whatever  per- 
Morai  En-  tains  to  man  as  a  spiritual  being.  As  a  rule, 
vironment.  children  adapt  themselves  readily  to  the  ideas, 
feelings,  and  practices  of  the  home  and  the  school.  Such 
adaptation  comes  from  imitation,  which  lies  so  near  the 


I^^  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

root  of  civilization  itself.  For  instance,  children  brought 
up  in  families  where,  on  Sunday  morning,  it  is  never  asked 
whether  the  members  of  the  family  who  are  old  enough 
will  go  to  church,  but  it  is  silently  assumed  that  they  will 
go  and  the  assumption  acted  upon,  naturally  fall  into 
the  habit  of  church  going  themselves,  commonly  with  in- 
terest, or  at  least  without  resistance.  It  is  the  same  way 
with  attendance  upon  the  school.  Under  favorable  condi- 
tions children  show  little  of  that  distaste  for  school  of  which 
so  much  is  sometimes  heard.  With  respect  to  both 
church  going  and  school  attendance,  different  parents 
give  very  different  accounts.  Nor  is  the  fact  acciden- 
tal or  wholly  due  to  the  inherited  interests  of  children  ; 
it  is  largely  due  rather  to  the  regimen  and  atmosphere 
of  the  home.  In  other  words,  much  of  the  current  dis- 
inclination for  church  and  school  is  purely  artificial,  and 
in  no  sense  a  permanent  interest,  unless  it  is  made  per- 
manent by  habit. 

We  may  go  much  further.  Children  who  grow  up  ex- 
pecting to  find  interest  in  their  books  and  studies  corn- 
Home  and  monly  find  it,  while  children  who  fail  to  find 
School.  interest  are  often  prepared  for  the  failure  by 
the  habitual  tone  of  the  home  or  the  school,  or  both. 
So-called  interests  are  marked  by  the  artificiality  men- 
tioned in  the  last  paragraph.  It  is  significant  how  much 
more  trouble  some  parents  and  teachers  have  with  the 
studies  of  their  children  or  pupils  than  others.  Sometimes 
the  familiar  tone  of  the  home,  or  it  may  be  of  the  school 
itself,  tends  to  engender  whims  and  notions  in  the  heads 
of  pupils.  Sometimes  the  direct  suggestion  comes  from 
parent  or  teacher  that  the  child  will  not  find  such  or 
such  a  study  interesting,  or  that  he  cannot  master  it, 
when  in  fact  he  has  made  no  real  effort  to  find  it  interest- 


CUL Tl I  \l  TIOX  OF  PASS/ VE  A  TTEXTIOX.  j  3 5 

ing  or  to  master  it.  In  strong  confirmation  of  this  view 
is  the  fact  that  the  studies  in  which  pupils  take  little 
interest  are  likely  to  be  those  in  which  their  teachers  take 
little  interest,  while  their  favorite  studies  are  also  likely  to 
be  the  favorite  studies  of  their  teachers.  These  facts  are 
no  doubt  due  in  part  to  the  quality  of  the  teaching,  but 
by  no  means  wholly  so.  Broadly  speaking,  the  ques- 
tion how  far  the  school  is  itself  the  parent  of  its  own 
difficulties,  is  a  curious  one. 

Again,  the  likes  and  dislikes  of  pupils  for  certain 
studies  are  due  even  more  to  the  influence  of  their  fellow- 
imitation  pupils  than  to  the  influence  of  their  parents  and 
and  studies,  teachers.  A  boy  of  my  acquaintance,  living  in 
one  town,  could  not  be  persuaded  to  study  Latin,  but  on 
removal  to  another  town  he  entered  upon  the  study  and 
pursued  it  with  pleasure.  The  study,  certainly,  was  the 
same  nor  had  his  mind  changed,  except  in  a  super- 
ficial sense.  The  explanation  of  the  change  of  mind  was 
simply  that  his  companions  in  the  one  town  did  not 
study  Latin,  while  those  in  the  other  town  did.  This  fact  is 
but  one  of  many  showing  that  interest  is  often  immediately 
dependent  upon  sympathy  and  imitation.  These  two 
factors  are  just  as  potent  in  the  sphere  of  studies  as 
they  are  in  the  sphere  of  behavior  or  conduct.  Boys  go 
away  from  home  to  school,  resolutely  determined  that 
they  are  not  interested  in  certain  subjects,  and  will  not 
study  them,  who,  within  a  year  or  two,  find  great  pleasure 
in  prosecuting  these  very  studies,  while  neglecting  others 
that  they  had  intended  to  pursue.  Some  interests  die  out, 
while  others  spring  up  and  take  their  places.  Still  it 
must  be  said  that  the  change  is  not  always  due  to  change 
of  fashion,  that  is,  to  imitation,  but  is  often  the  result  of 
mental  growth. 


136  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

It  is  the  same  way  with  vocations ;  in  America  there 
could  hardly  be  a  more  fallible  guide  to  the  callings  that 
Vocations,  young  boys  will  pursue  when  they  become  men 
than  their  present  ideas  and  protestations.  Even  when 
the  man  follows  the  vocation  that  the  boy  had  chosen,  the 
fact  is  due  oftenertothe  pressure  of  necessity  or  to  imita- 
tion than  it  is  to  the  working  of  permanent  interests. 

In  respect  to  school  studies,  a  personal  element  of 
importance  is  involved.  A  subject  is  attractive  to  a 
Personal  pupil  when  taught  by  one  teacher,  but  is  un- 
Eiementin  attractive  when  taught  by  another.  In 
many  cases  this  is  due  to  the  different  ways  in 
which  the  subject  is  presented,  but  not  unfrequently  it 
is  due  to  the  personality  of  the  teacher.  In  truth,  an 
unattractive  subject  is  frequently  only  an  unattractive 
teacher.  This  is  an  important  topic,  which  will  come 
before  us  again. 

It  is  perfectly  true  that  interests  often  root  far 
deeper  down  in  the  mind  than  these  superficial  facts 
The  Deeper  would  suggest.  Aptitudes  and  inaptitudes  for 
Interests,  studies  and  vocations  are  sometimes  inborn, 
and  not  unfrequently  declare  themselves  at  an  early  age. 
Here  are  found  the  geniuses  and  semi-geniuses  that 
Nature  gives  to  the  world.  But  this  description  does  not 
apply  to  the  large  majority  of  children  and  youth  in 
either  particular.  The  average  boy  is  not  singled  out  by 
Nature  as  especially  fitted  for  this  study  or  for  that  pur- 
suit ;  if  he  were  so  singled  out,  he  would  not  be  the 
average  boy.  He  is  cut  off  by  Nature  from  the  success- 
ful prosecution  of  many  studies  and  vocations,  but,  within 
wide  limits,  he  can  become  interested  in  and  can  succeed 
in  a  large  variety  of  things.  In  respect  to  vocations,  the 
boy  who  becomes  a  miner  in  Wales  or  a  fisherman  in 


CULTIVATION  OF  PASSIVE  ATIENTION. 


m 


Holland,  becomes  a  dairyman  in  Wisconsin  or  a  wheat- 
grower  in  Dakota,  succeeding  equally  well,  so  far  as  we  can 
discover,  in  all  these  vocations.  It  is  not  the  intention  to 
minimize  the  variation  that  comes  from  Nature,  but  only 
to  keep  it  within  its  proper  limits.  It  is  one  of  the  topics 
of  educational  interest  that  are  treated  with  much  exag- 
geration. Deep-sea  currents  carry  vast  icebergs  against 
both  wind  and  tide,  while  surface  currents  are  themselves 
the  creations  of  wind  and  tide. 

To  discriminate  between  the  permanent  and  the  tem- 
porary interests  of  school  children  is  an  important  mat- 
importance  '^^'^'  '^^^  teacher  will  produce  small  results 
ofDiscrim-  working  against  strong  permanent  interests, 
while  temporary  interests  are  to  a  great  ex- 
tent placed  in  his  own  hands.  Often,  too,  it  is  a  diffi- 
cult and  sometimes  an  impossible  matter  to  make  this 
discrimination.  Externally  the  two  classes  of  interest 
are  very  much  alike,  although  so  different  in  essential 
character.  Accordingly,  the  various  signs  of  interest  in 
pupils  is  a  subject  that  the  teacher  should  constantly 
study.  One  very  practical  question  is,  What  shall  the 
teacher  do  when  he  cannot  decide  whether  a  pupil's  pres- 
ent dislike  for  a  study  is  permanent  or  transient  ?  Ob- 
viously, if  the  study  is  an  important  one,  he  should 
make  all  reasonable  efforts  to  arouse  interest  and  over- 
come the  dislike.  If  he  fails  the  subject  may  be  dropped 
for  a  time,  and  then  the  efTort  to  awaken  interest  be 
renewed.  If  reasonable  effort  thus  renewed  fails  to  ac- 
complish the  end,  it  is  safe  to  infer  that  the  dislike  is 
not  a  superficial  one.  But  it  is  fortunate  that  the  normal 
pupil,  with  infrequent  exceptions,  can  be  interested  in  the 
essential  studies  of  the  elementary  school.  In  fact,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  looking  at  the  subject   from  another 


■38 


THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  Y. 


point  of  view,  the   interests  of  the   normal  child  are  the 
great  criterion  in  selecting  the  studies  of  the  school. 

In  the  course  of  the  preceding  remarks  it  has  become 
perfectly  clear,  if  it  was   not  clear  before,  that  the  inter- 
ests of  the  child   are  to  a  great  degree  in  the 
The  Child's  i^^^^jj,  Qf  ti^g  teacher.     Within  limits,  and  these 

Interests  in  ' 

the  Hands  by  no  means  narrow  ones,  he  can  augment, 
Teacher.  diminish,  or  destroy  old  interests,  or  create  new 
ones.  The  fact  is  that  the  skillful  teacher,  so 
far  from  being  bound  by  predetermined  facts  of  child- 
nature,  can  exercise  over  young  children  an  influence  that 
is  almost  magical.  Fenelon,  for  example,  waved  his  wand 
over  the  young  Duke  of  Burgundy  until  he  completely 
changed  his  character.  The  teacher's  influence  may  even 
be  too  great,  destroying  all  strength  and  individuality  of 
character,  as  in  the  case  just  referred  to.  Fenelon's 
method,  as  a  royal  tutor,  was  indirect  instruction,  which 
works  wholly  through  the  reflex  attention,  and  it  was  suc- 
cessful to  a  fault.  Attention  that  works  solely  through 
the  automatic  nature  naturally  leads  to  this  very  result. 

The  last  sentences  suggest  certain  dangers  that  lie  at  one 
end  of  the  doctrine  of  interest.  Many  more  dangers  no 
«  „    ^         doubt  lie   at   the    other   end.     Practically  the 

^Svlls  flow-    _        .  .  .  . 

ingfrom  fleeting  impressions,  the  mere  notions,  whims, 
Interest.  ^j,  caprices  of  children  are  not  unfrequently  mis- 
taken for  permanent  attractions  or  repulsions,  and  are 
made  criteria  for  conducting  their  education.  There 
could  be  no  greater  mistake.  Temporary  interests  are  by 
no  means  to  be  disregarded  ;  even  the  most  fleeting  im- 
pressions of  the  child  have  some  significance;  but  often, 
the  teacher's  first  duty  is  to  see  how  soon  and  how  far 
he  can  turn  the  tide  of  interest  into  a  new  channel.  The 
teacher's  duty  is  negative  as  well  as  positive.     While  he 


CULTIVATION  OF  PASSIVE  ATTENTION. 


139 


develops  some  interests  he  weakens,  or,  it  may  be,  even 
destroys  others.  He  works  through  stimulus  which  he 
must  in  some  cases  supply,  and  in  others  withhold. 

The  subject  may  be  viewed  from  another  quarter.  It 
is  now  common  to  denounce  the  old  regimen  for  children, 
The  Puritan  that  of  the  Puritans,  for  instance,  as  repressive. 
Regimen,  q^  even  Oppressive.  We  are  told  that  children 
did  not  enjoy  the  liberty  to  which  they  were  properly  en- 
titled, and  v.ere  dwarfed  or  made  lopsided  in  their  develop- 
ment. No  doubt  there  is  much  truth  in  this  view  of  the 
matter.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  possible  to  go  too  far 
in  the  opposite  direction,  with  the  result  that  children, 
with  all  their  liberty  or  freedom,  will  suffer  from  weakness 
and  enfeebled  character. 

It  is  not  meant  to  deny  either  that  children  do  differ 
in  their  capacities  and  interests,  or  that  the  fact  should 
be  recognized  both  in  the  home  and  in  the  school.  The 
sole  purpose  of  what  has  been  said  is,  rather,  to  call  a  halt 
long  enough  to  inquire  seriously  how  much  room  shall  be 
made  in  elementary  education  for  what  is  called  interest. 

The  tendency  that  is  seen  in  some  quarters  to  look 
upon  what  are  deemed  "  interests "  with  something  of 
fatalistic  awe  is  to  be  deplored.  Hard  work,  and  plenty 
of  it,  and  not  the  passive  resignation  of  the  mind  to  the 
stream  of  interest,  is  the  condition  of  thorough  scholar- 
ship. A  gelatinous  regimen  will  not  suffice.  The  lesson 
of  strenuous  endeavor  will  receive  due  emphasis  in  due 
time  ;  but  now,  to  keep  the  strenuous  teacher  in  heart,  I 
will  say  that  I  endorse  every  word  of  the  following  pas- 
sage quoted  from  a  recent  book,  only  the  doctrine  of  the 
passage  must  not  be  reduced  to  practice  too  soon  : 

"  Pride  and  pugnacity  have  often  been  considered  unworthy  passions 
to  appeal  to  in  the  young.     But  in  their  more  refined  and  noble  forms 


140 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


they  play  a  great  part  in  the  schoolroom  and  in  education  generally, 
being  in  some  characters  most  potent  spurs  to  effort.  Pugnacity  need 
not  be  thought  of  merely  in  the  form  of  physical  combativeness.  It 
Professor  ^-^^  ^^  taken  in  the  sense  of  a  general  unwillingness  to 
James  on  be  beaten  by  any  kind  of  difficulty.  It  is  what  makes  us 
Pride  and  f^gi  <  stumped  '  and  challenged  by  arduous  achievements, 
ugnac  y  ^^^  .^  essential  to  a  spirited  and  enterprising  character. 
We  have  of  late  been  hearing  much  of  the  philosophy  of  tenderness  in 
education ;  '  interest '  must  be  assiduously  awakened  in  everything, 
difficulties  must  be  smoothed  away.  Soft  pedagogics  have  taken  the 
place  of  the  old  steep  and  rocky  path  to  learning.  But  from  this  luke- 
warm air  the  bracing  oxygen  of  effort  is  left  out.  It  is  nonsense  to 
suppose  that  every  step  in  education  can  be  interesting.  The  fighting 
impulses  must  often  be  appealed  to.  Make  the  pupil  feel  ashamed  of 
being  scared  at  fractions,  of  being  '  downed '  by  the  law  of  falling 
bodies;  rouse  his  pugnacity  and  pride,  and  he  will  rush  at  the  difficult 
places  with  a  sort  of  inner  wrath  at  himself  that  is  one  of  his  best 
moral  faculties.  A  victory  scored  under  such  conditions  becomes  a 
turning  point  and  crisis  of  his  character.  It  represents  the  high-water 
mark  of  his  powers,  and  serves  thereafter  as  an  ideal  pattern  for  his 
self-imitation.  The  teacher  who  never  rouses  this  sort  of  pugnacious 
excitement  in  his  pupils  falls  short  of  one  of  his  best  forms  of  useful- 


Parallel  Reading. — The  Principles  of  Psychology^  Wil- 
liam James.  New  York,  Henry  Holt  &  Co.  Chap.  XI. 
("  Attention  ").  Habit  and  its  Ijnportance  in  Education,  Dr. 
Paul  Radestock.  Translated  by  F.  A.  Caspari.  Boston,  D. 
C.  Heath  &  Co.,  1 886.  Principles  of  Mental  Physiology,  William 
B.  Carpenter.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1886.  Chap. 
Vin.  ("  Of  Habit  ").  Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology  and  to 
Students  on  Some  of  Lifers  Ideals,  William  James.  New  York, 
Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  1899.  Chap.  VHI.  ("The  Laws  ol 
Habit  "). 

^  Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology  and  to  Students  on  Some  of  Life'' s  Ideals, 
William  James.     New  York,  Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  1899,  pp.  54-55. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ACTIVE   ATTENTION  :   THE  WILL. 

Before  we  take  up  the  cultivation  of  the  active  atten- 
tion as  a  practical  problem,  we  must  consider  yet  further 
its  value  or  its  place  both  in  educational  theory  and  prac- 
tice. Our  thesis  is  that  its  proper  cultivation  is  the  edu- 
cational problem.  We  must,  however,  first  take  a  single 
look  backward. 

The  reflex  mental  life  is  the  mental  life  characteristic  of 
childhood  and  immaturity.  Contrary  to  the  common 
The  Child's  Opinion,  perhaps,  the  child  has  little  will  power 
i,ife  Reflex,  qj.  power  of  sclf-direction  ;  at  first  he  has  abso- 
lutely none,  but  is  the  sport  of  the  world  about  him,  the 
creature  of  circumstances.  To  a  degree  his  environment 
may  be  shaped  by  his  seniors,  as  his  parents,  for  an  edu- 
cational purpose,  but  the  principle  is  the  same.  He  knows 
and  pursues  the  things  that  fascinate  him,  and  his  educa- 
tion is  wholly  negative.  Now  he  is  absorbed  in  one 
thing,  and  now  in  another.  He  flits  from  object  to  object 
as  the  bee  or  the  butterfly  flits  from  flower  to  flower. 
Only  two  things  can  be  said  of  him  with  certainty — he  is 
sure  to  have  many  interests  in  the  course  of  a  day,  and 
none  of  them  will  continue  long.     This  reflex  life  is  also 

characteristic  of  the  undeveloped  man  and  the    savage, 

141 


1 42  THE  A  R  T  OF  S  TUD  V. 

both  of  whom  live  in  their  senses,  or  in  the  external  world, 
to  such  an  extent  that  they  belong  to  Nature  rather  than 
to  themselves.  Furthermore,  this  spontaneous,  passive 
life  of  the  mind  is  the  only  mental  life  that  the  child  or 
the  undeveloped  man  is,  for  the  time,  capable  of  living. 
Still  more,  it  contains  the  germs  out  of  which  the  regulated 
life  of  the  judgment  and  the  will  is  developed.  Neither 
will  it  ever  come  to  an  end  while  life  itself  lasts.  In  a 
sense,  it  will  in  time  even  encroach  upon  the  later  con- 
scious and  voluntary  activities  that  are  characteristic  of 
the  higher  life  of  the  soul,  and  that  are  built  up  at  the 
expense  of  the  lower  life. 

But,  interesting  and  important  as  it  is,  this  reflex  life  is 
still  distinctly  inferior  to  the  active  or  voluntary  life  of 
Reflex  i,ife  ^^^^  mind.  The  child  or  man  who  leads  it 
Inferior  to  is  in  no  scnse  a  law  unto  himself.  The 
'  higher  mental  life  proceeds  from  within  out- 
ward, not  from  without  inward,  and  it  never  dawns  until 
self-direction,  that  is,  the  will,  begins  to  assert  itself. 
Such  assertion  is  the  beginning  of  self-discipline.  Volun- 
tary directive  power  over  the  current  of  thought  and 
feeling,  as  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter  says,  is  the  characteristic 
of  the  fully  developed  man,  and  "  the  acquirement  of  this 
Dr  Car-  power,  whicli  is  within  the  easy  reach  of  every 
penter  on  one,  should  be  the  primary  object  of  all  mental 
discipline."  "  It  is  thus,"  he  says,  ''  that  each 
individual  can  perfect  and  utilize  his  natural  gifts ;  by 
rigorously  training  them  in  the  first  instance,  and  then 
by  exercising  them  only  in  the  manner  most  fitting  to 
expand  and  elevate,  while  restraining  them  from  all  that 
would  limit  or  debase."  This  is  the  center  of  character. 
"  It  is,  in  fact,"  he  continues,  "  in  virtue  of  the  will 
that  we  are  no^  mere  thinking  automata,  mere  puppets 


ACTIVE  ATTENTION :   THE   WILL.  j^. 

to  be  pulled  by  suggesting  strings,  capable  of  being 
played  upon  by  every  one  who  shall  have  made  him- 
self master  of  our  springs  of  action."  ^ 

Dr.  Harris  writes  to  the  same  effect.  To  grasp  his 
meaning  fully,  however,  we  must  remember  that  he  does 
not  recognize  passive  attention  as  attention  at  all,  but 
bounds  the  activity  by  the  exercise  of  the  will. 

"  The  person  without  a  well-developed  power  of  attention  is  in  a 

state  of  passivity  toward  invading  external  influences.     He  is  a  prey 

to  impressions  that  come  from  his  environment.     Most 

Dr.  Harris    q£  these   '  early  impressions  '  of  which  we  hear  so  much 

on  Atten-  .       ,  .    .    ,    ,  .  11. 

tion.  were  received  at  a  tnne  when  trivial  things  could  seize  upon 

us  and  absorb  our  powers  of  observation  to  the  neglect 
of  more  essential  things.  Such  passive  impressibility,  the  condition 
of  the  childish  memory,  it  is  the  object  of  education  to  eradicate.  The 
pupil  must  learn  to  exclude  and  ignore  the  many  things  before  him,  and 
to  concentrate  all  his  powers  of  mind  on  the  one  chosen  subject.  .  .  . 
Intellectual  culture  begins  when  the  will  first  commences  to  act 
on  the  senses.  Its  first  action  produces  what  is  called  attention. 
Attention  selects  one  object  out  of  the  manifold  and  collects  the  vari- 
ous impressions  made  upon  its  senses,  while  it  wilfully  neglects  the 
multitude  of  other  objects  that  are  in  its  presence — it  inhibits  the  con- 
sideration of  these  others.  Attention,  then,  may  be  regarded  as  the 
name  of  the  first  union  of  the  will  with  the  intellect.  It  turns  the 
chaos  of  sense-impressions  into  a  system  by  connecting  them  with  a 
focus  arbitrarily  chosen. 

"  Intellectual  training  begins  with  the  habit  of  attention.  In  this  ac- 
tivity will  and  intellect  are  conjoined.  The  mind  in  this  exercises  its 
first  self-determination.  It  says  to  the  play  of  sense  and  idle  fancy: 
Stop  and  obey  me;  neglect  that,  and  notice  this.  The  indefinitely 
manifold  objects  always  present  before  the  senses  vanish,  and  one  ob- 
ject engrosses  the  mind.  This  is  the  sine  qua  nan  of  intellectual 
culture."'^ 

"^  Principles  of  Mentiil  Physiology.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1877, 
pp.  25-27,  147. 

*  Psycholoi^ic  Foundations  of  Education.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  <Si 
Co.,  1898,  pp.  187,  237,  238. 


, 44  THE  ART  OF  STUD Y. 

To  quote  Ribot  also: 

"  Voluntary  or  artificial  attention  is  a  product  of  art,  of  education,  of 

direction,  and  of  training.     It  is  grafted,  as  it  were,  upon  spontaneous 

or  natural  attention,  and  finds,  in  the  latter,  its  condition  of 

Ribot  on  existence,  as  the  graft  does  in  the  stalk  into  which  it  has 
Attention.       ,  .  ,       ,  ■         ,        i  • 

been  inserted.     In  spontaneous  attention  the  object  acts 

by  its  intrinsic  power  ;  in  voluntary  attention  the  subject  acts  through 
extrinsic,  that  is,  through  superadded  powers.  In  voluntary  attention 
the  aim  is  no  longer  set  by  hazard  or  circumstances ;  it  is  willed, 
chosen,  accepted  or,  at  least,  submitted  to  ;  it  is  mainly  a  question  of 
adapting  ourselves  to  it,  and  of  finding  the  proper  means  for  main- 
taining the  State ;  and  hence,  voluntary  attention  is  always  accom- 
panied by  a  certain  feeling  of  effort.  The  maximum  of  spontaneous 
attention  and  the  maximum  of  voluntary  attention  are  totally  anti- 
thetic ;  the  one  running  in  the  direction  of  the  strongest  attraction, 
the  other  in  the  direction  of  the  greatest  resistance.  They  consti- 
tute the  two  polar  limits  between  which  all  possible  degrees  are 
found,  with  a  definite  point  at  which,  in  theory  at  least,  the  two  forms 
meet."  ^ 

These  quotations  show  the  estimation  in  which  these 
distinguished  thinkers  hold  the  active  attention,  and  its 
proper  education.  They  suggest,  also,  the  reason  why 
the  cultivation  of  the  active  attention  is  emphatically  tJit 
educational  problem.  We  must,  however,  look  more  in- 
tently into  the  matter. 

The  will  is  the  mental  faculty  or  power  that  makes  and 
executes  choices.  The  will  is  the  mind  choosing.  It  is 
the  will,  therefore,  that  selects  the  object  in 
Chooses.  active  attention,  holds  it  in  the  focus  of  the 
mind,  and  so  determines  the  point  from  which 
the  whole  intellectual  movement  proceeds.  The  intellect 
does  not  attend  to  the  object  primarily  because  the  object 
is  interesting,  but  because  the  will  issues  a  mandate  that 

^  The  Psychology  of  Attention.     Chicago,  Open  Court  Pub.  Co.,  1890,  p.  35. 


ACTIVE  ATTENTION:   THE  WILL. 


14; 


it  shall  do  so.  A  score  of  objects  more  interesting  than 
the  one  selected  may  clamor  for  recognition,  but  the  will 
excludes  them  all,  more  or  less  effectually,  and  holds  the 
chosen  object  in  the  focus  of  consciousness.  In  the  early 
stage  of  culture,  as  we  have  seen,  the  child's  will  is  weak, 
and  the  competition  for  his  attention  strong  ;  but  as  the 
Passive  At-  ^^'^^  strengthens,  or  voluntary  attention  grows, 
tention  not  the  mind  centers  itself  upon  objects  of  its  own 
choice,  and  thus  proves  its  superiority  to  en- 
vironment. This  stage  of  keen  competition  for  the 
child's  attention  should  be  closely  watched  by  the  teacher. 
It  is  the  most  critical  period  in  his  education,  both  men- 
tal and  moral.  Professor  James  is  on  firm  ground  when 
he  tells  teachers  that  the  reflex,  passive  attention,  which 
seems  to  make  the  child  belong  less  to  himself  than  to 
every  object  which  happens  to  catch  his  notice,  is  the  first 
thing  which  they  have  to  overcome.  Such  is  the  first 
fact  to  be  firmly  grasped. 

But  the  will  alone  cannot  long  hold  the  mind  to  any 
object  that  it  may  have  chosen  ;  the  effort  is  too  great, 
Active  At-  ^^^^  waste  of  brain  and  nerve  substance  too  rapid, 
tention  not  Or,  to  change  the  expression,  the  mind  cannot, 
*  by  sheer  force  of  will,  or  "  bearing  on  "  as  it  is 
sometimes  called,  cling  to  any  matter  hour  after  hour,  or 
even  minute  after  minute.  The  choice  or  act  of  selection 
must  be  constantly  renewed.  In  fact,  what  is  called  sus- 
tained attention  is  nothing  but  a  series  of  choices  or  elec- 
tions of  the  object  chosen.  Still  more,  this  series  is  of 
necessity  short,  particularly  in  the  cases  of  school  chil- 
dren, for  the  same  reason  that  the  single  act  of  choice  is 
short — it  is  an  exhaustive  mental  operation.  This  is  the 
second  fact  to  be  grasped. 

That  fixed  volitional  attention  is  difficult  is  perfectly 

Art  of  study. — 10. 


146  THE  ART  OF  STUD  Y. 

well  understood   by    all    persons  who    have    ever   given 

such  attention  to  serious  matters.  It  is  par- 
Active  At-  .        ,       ,  .       ,  ,  f        1    -1  1  r 

tention         ticularly  SO  in  the  cases  ot    children,  for   rea- 
Hard  to        gQj^g     ^j^^l-    have     already    been     stated.     But, 

Obtain.  ^  ' 

no  matter  how  hard  it  is  for  the  child  in  school 
to  give  attention,  his  attention  we  must  have,  and  his 
active  attention  at  that.  The  concentration  of  power 
that  comes  directly  from  interest  will  not  suffice,  for  that 
finally  leaves  the  mind  unregulated  and  roaming  at  large  ; 
the  will  must  focus  the  mind  if  there  is  to  be  any  real 
education  or  discipline.  There  is  no  getting  on  without 
attention  if  the  school  is  to  accomplish  its  purpose.  Un- 
less, therefore,  the  teacher  can  get  and  can  hold  the 
child's  attention  he  may  dismiss  immediately  the  idea  of 
doing  him  anything  more  than  temporary,  fleeting  good. 
What  then  shall  be  done?  Fortunately,  the  answer  to 
this  question  is  as  decisive  as  it  is  important. 

1.  It  is  plainly  necessary  to  reenforce  the  active  at- 
tention from  some  source  outside  of  itself,  or,  at  least, 
It  Needs  outside  of  the  will.  Nor  is  there  any  room 
Reenforce-  for  doubt  as  to  the  quarter  w^here  we  are 
^^^  '  to  seek  and  find  such  reenforcement.  We 
are  to  seek  and  to  find  it  in  interest.  Unless  some  ele- 
ment of  interest  can  be  found  in  the  object  of  attention 
that  the  will  has  chosen,  or  can  speedily  be  brought  into 
it,  attention  will  flag  and  will  soon  defy  all  the  teacher's 
efforts  to  renew  it.  The  school  child  cannot  hold  on  to 
some  chosen  object  of  attention  as  a  monkey  can  cling 
with  its  tail  to  the  branch  of  a  tree.  This  element  of  in- 
terest that  is  so  indispensable  may  be  either  old  or  new ; 
if  old,  it  will  at  first  pass  unnoticed;  if  new,  it  must  still 
be  something  like  an  old  interest. 

2.  It  is,  then,  the  appearance  of  some  element  of  in- 


ACTIVE  ATTENTION:   THE  WILL.  147 

terest,  old  or  new  as  the   case  may  be,  that   makes  pro- 
tracted voluntary  attention  possible.     In  other 
u;n«orstc"h  words,  activc  attention  must  be  buttressed  at 
Reenforce-    \^^^  upon  passive  attention.     In  fact,  the  dif- 

ment.  1.11  •  j.^. 

ference  between  the  active  and  the  passive  atten- 
tion may,  in  one  sense,  be  easily  exaggerated.  In- 
terest is  involved  in  both,  sooner  or  later,  if  attention  is 
protracted  or  sustained.  The  question  will  therefore  oc- 
cur to  some  readers,  Why  then  make  so  much  pother 
about  the  matter?  In  dealing  with  attention,  why 
not  drop  all  talk  about  passive  and  active,  reflex  and 
voluntary,  and  confine  the  discussion  wholly  to  interest? 
The  question  is  a  fair  one,  and  the  answer  important. 
Moreover,  it  is  an  answer  that  can  be  given  in  few  and 
decisive  words. 

3.  In  passive  attention  objects  of  interest,  one  after 
another,  dominate  the  mind.  It  matters  not  what  these 
The  Will  objects  are  or  why  they  are  interesting  ;  nor  is 
Focuses  the  there  any  necessary  relation  existing  between 
A^tive^At-"  their  influence  over  the  mind  and  their  real 
tention.  value,  especially  in  early  life.  The  sway  of 
interest  is  the  abandonment  of  the  life  to  environment. 
In  active  attention,  on  the  other  hand,  the  will  first 
chooses  some  object  that  is  deemed  worthy  to  be  chosen, 
and  then,  although  it  cannot  by  its  unbroken  authority 
hold  this  object  in  the  focus 'of  the  mind  without  the 
help  of  interest,  it  can  renew  the  choice  once  and  again, 
and,  what  is  more,  summon  interest  to  its  assistance.  In 
this  case  the  will  both  chooses  the  path  and  checks 
attempts  to  abandon  it  ;  in  the  other,  there  is  no  choice 
or  attempt  at  self-regulation.  To  some  this  difference 
may  seem  unimportant  and  trivial.  Not  so ;  on  the 
other  hand,  this  difference   measures  the  whole  interval 


1 48  THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  Y. 

that  separates,  in  effect,  the  untrained  and  the  trained 
man.  The  common  admonitions,  "  Try  again,"  "  Per- 
severe," "  Do  not  become  discouraged,"  "  Hold  on,"  and 
the  like,  all  of  which  are  addressed  to  the  will,  show  the 
estimation  in  which  this  voluntary  element  is  held.  Popu- 
lar speech  testifies  to  its  ef^cacy  and  value.  The  same  may 
be  said,  also,  of  the  examples  of  courage,  resolution,  and 
fortitude  that  play  so  important  a  part  in  the  development 
of  the  child-life :  they  energize  the  will  as  well  as  en- 
kindle interest.  Thus  popular  usage,  as  well  as  popular 
speech,  bears  its  testimony  to  the  importance  of  will-de- 
velopment as  an  element  in  education. 

4.  It  may  be  said  that  the  choice  which  the  will  makes 
in  respect  to  attention  is  only  a  choice  among  interests. 
In  the  long  run,  there  is  some  truth  in  this  view 
intere  t  of  the  subject,  since  voluntary  attention,  if  con- 
tinued, tends  to  pass  into  habit,  and  so  to  be- 
come reflex  attention ;  but  it  is  by  no  means  wholly  true. 
The  well-disciplined  man,  no  matter  how  thoroughly  his 
mind  becomes  grooved,  always  has  a  considerable  capac- 
ity for  action  wholly  outside  of  his  immediate  interests. 
The  man  who  can  do  nothing  except  what  interests  him, 
no  matter  what  his  interests  are,  is  not  even  half  a 
man. 

It  has  appeared  very  plainly  in  the  course  of  our  dis- 
cussion that  the  cultivation  of  the  pupil's  attention  is  a 
difificult  matter,  involving  much  skill  in  the  teacher.  As 
Compayr^  says: 

"  Nothing-  is  so  delicate  or  so  fragile  as  the  attention  in  its  first 

^  .     manifestations.     If  you   employ  unskillful  methods ;  if, 

Cotnpayre  j  v     1 

on  the  Edu-  fo^"  example,  you  seek  by  force  to  hold  the  child's  mind 
cation  of  on  books  which  do  not  interest  him,  or  on  abstractions 
Attention,  -which  he  hardly  comprehends,  you  run  the  risk  of  ren- 
dering him  inattentive  for  life ;  you  provoke  him  to  seek  in  distrac- 


ACTIVE  ATTENTION :   THE   WILL. 


149 


tion  a  refuge  or  defense  against  the    ennui   caused    by   studies    illy 
adapted  to  his  age."  ^ 

This  is  perfectly  true.  The  springing  plant  must  be 
cultivated  with  peculiar  care,  but  if  forcing  the  child  to 
hold  his  mind  on  uninteresting  things  leads  to  permanent 
habits  of  inattention,  the  abandonment  of  the  child  to  his 
fancies  leaves  his  mind  unsettled  and  fickle. 

The  truth  is,  as  Ribot  says,  that  spontaneous  attention, 

and,  above  all,  voluntary  attention  are  exceptional  states 

of  mind.     Eliminate  from  consciousness,  as  he 

Attention     does,  "  the  general  routine  of  life — that  enorm- 

an  Excep- 

tionai  State  ous  mass  of  habits  that  move  us  like  automatons, 
of  Con-         with  vague  and  intermittent  states  of  conscious- 

sclousness.  *> 

ness  ;  .  .  .  the  periods  of  our  mental  life  in  which 
we  are  purely  passive  simply  because  the  order  and  suc- 
cession of  our  states  of  consciousness  are -given  to  us  from 
without,  and  because  their  serial  connection  is  imposed 
upon  us ;  .  .  .  that  state  of  relative  intellectual  repose  in 
which  people  '  think  of  nothing,'  "  or  "  when  the  states  of 
consciousness  have  neither  intensity  nor  clear  determina- 
tion," and  finally,  "  all  states  of  passion  and  violent  agita- 
tion, with  their  disorderly  flux  and  diffusion  of  move- 
ments,"— eliminate  all  these  things,  "  with  perhaps  a  few 
others,"  and  "  we  may  then  credit  to  the  general  account 
of  attention  that  which  remains."  "  In  this  general  ac- 
count," he  continues,  "  the  cases  of  spontaneous  attention 
make  up  by  far  the  greater  number;  the  clear  and  indis- 
putable cases  of  voluntary  attention  constitute  the 
minority;  in  many  men  and  women  they  amount  almost 
to  nothing."     Moreover,  the  cause   of  the  difference  he 

'  Psychology  Applied  to  Education.     Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  &    Co.,   1894, 

p.  ss. 


,5o  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

finds,  in  part,  in  "  the  fact  of  common  experience  that  in 
the  state  of  fatigue,  the  state  of  exhaustion,  attention  is 
very  difficult,  often  impossible,  and  always  without  dura- 
tion. And  the  reason  is,  that  attention,  by  its  very  nature, 
more  than  any  other  intellectual  state  requires  a  great 
expenditure  of  physical  force,  which  has  to  be  produced 
under  particular  conditions."^  While  this  account  is  true 
in  the  main,  it  in  no  way  disproves,  but  rather  confirms, 
the  contention  that  the  highest  aim  of  education  is  to 
develop  volitional  control  of  the  mind.  Small  as  may 
be  the  portion  of  life  that  falls  under  the  head  of  volun- 
tary attention,  it  is  still  incalculably  the  most  productive 
and  valuable  part  of  life. 

Great  indeed  is  the  waste  of  time  and  energy  caused  by 
indecision  and  irresolution.  I  speak  now  not  of  practical 
matters,  but  of  studies.  Said  Professor  Moses  Stuart: 
"  While  one  man  is  deliberating  whether  he  had  better 
study  a  language,  another  man  has  obtained  it."  To  the 
same  effect  are  the  well-known  words  of  Dr.  Johnson : 
"  Whilst  you  stand  deliberating  which  book  your  son 
shall  read  first,  another  boy  has  read  both.  Read  any- 
thing five  hours  a  day,  and  you  will  soon  become 
learned." 

The  value  of  vigorous  will  is  abundantly  shown  in  his- 
tory.    It  is  the   backbone   of   character — more  than  any- 

j  ^j  thing  else  it  is  character.  Intellectual  pursuits 
Vigorous  sometimes  tend  to  break  down  the  will.  Mr. 
Lowell  mentions  an  engineer  who  knew  how  to 
build  a  bridge  so  well  that  he  could  never  build  one. 
Hamlet  could  not  screw  his  courage  to  the  sticking  point 
because  he  had    so  many  ideas  in  his  head. 

^  The  Psychology  of  Attention.  Chicago,  the  Open  Court  Publishing 
Co.,  1890,  pp.  n8,  119. 


ACTIVE  ATTENTION:   THE   WILL.  131 

"And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution 
Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought; 
And  enterprises  of  great  pith  and  moment. 
With  this  regard  their  currents  turn  awry, 
And  lose  the  name  of  action." 

Coleridge  is  often  given  as  a  conspicuous  example  of  a 
man  of  great  gifts,  who  never  accomplished  what  he  should 
have  accomplished  because  he  was  indolent  and  of  feeble 
will.  Mr.  Lowell,  in  his  address  on  Coleridge  delivered  in 
Westminster  Abbey,  expresses  doubt  whether  he  was  a 
great  poet  and  a  great  teacher,  but  says  he  had  the  almost 
overabundant  materials  of  both.  Lowell  characterizes  him 
happily  in  the  sentence  :  "  No  doubt  we  have  in  Coleridge 
the  most  striking  example  in  literature  of  a  great  genius 
given  in  trust  to  a  nervous  will  and  a  fitful  purpose." 

Parallel  Reading.  —  Talks  to  Teachers  on  Psychology  and 
to  Students  on  some  0/  Life's  Ideals,  William  James.  New  York, 
Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  1899.  Chap.  XV.  ("  The  Will  ").  Trin- 
ciples  of  Mental  Physiology,  William  B.  Carpenter.  New  York, 
D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1886.  Chap.  IV.  ("  Of  the  Will").  Psy- 
chology of  the  Schoolroom,  T.  F.  G.  Dexter  and  A.  H.  Garlick. 
New  York,  Longmans,  Green  &  Co.,  1898.  Chap.  XXI. 
("  The  Will ").  Psychology  Applied  to  Education,  Gabriel  Com- 
payrd,  translated  by  W.  H.  Payne.  Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  & 
Co.,  1894. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  CULTIVATION  OF   ACTIVE   ATTENTION. 

Stated  from  the  pupil's  point  of  view,  the  problem 
of  cultivating  the  active  attention  is  this :  to  develop, 
The  Prob-  through  repeated  acts  of  choice  and  persistent 
lem  stated,  application,  the  power  to  apply  the  mind  vigor- 
ously to  the  appointed  work  of  the  school.  Success  in  the 
attempt  leads  to  mastery  of  this  work,  as  well  as  to  the 
formation  of  the  habit  or  the  development  of  the  power 
of  attention.  Stated  from  the  teacher's  point  of  view,  the 
problem  is  this :  to  establish  and  maintain  in  the  school 
a  regimen  that  shall  help  the  pupil  to  gain  the  foregoing 
end.  We  shall  now  consider  the  problem  as  it  shapes  itself 
to  the  teacher's  mind.  This  we  do  because  growth  or 
development  on  the  pupil's  part  is  unconscious,  being 
acquired  while  he  is  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  his  ordinary 
school  work. 

The  first  fact  to  be  stated  is  that  talk  about  cultivating 

attention   is   not  at  all  the  same  thing  as  cultivating  it. 

The  two  things  are  different,  and  there  is  no 

Attention     ucccssary  connection  between    them.      There 

Is  Not  niay  be  much  talk  about  attention  in  the  school 

Attention.  11-1  .  i 

and  little  attention,  or  there  may  be  much  at- 
tention and  no  talk  about  it  whatever.     Cries  of  "  Atten- 

152 


CUL  TIVA  TIOX  OF  A  CTIVE  A  TTENTION.  i  5  3 

tion  !  "  and  lectures  by  the  teacher  addressed  to  the  pupib 
about  attention,  defining  and  extolling  it,  do  not  avail. 
Pupils  are  not  influenced  for  good  by  such  exclamations 
or  such  homilies.  The  teacher  will  not  get  attention  by 
demanding  it  as  his  right,  or  begging  for  it  as  a  favor;  by 
urging  upon  pupils  the  importance  of  the  thing,  or  the 
value  of  the  lessons  that  he  has  to  teach.  When  the 
moment  arrives  for  the  session  of  the  school!  to  open, 
morning  or  afternoon,  the  call  "  Attention  !  "klike  the 
stroke  of  the  bell  or  other  signal,  may  bring  tfte  school 
to  order  and  settle  the  scholars  down  to  their  work.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  other  similar  occasions  during  the 
day,  as  when  there  is  a  change  of  classes,  or  some  ilriusual 
cause  has  thrown  the  school  into  temporary  contusion. 
But  beyond  this,  such  calls  as  "  Order !  "  "  Attention  !\!  and 
the  like,  do  harm  rather  than  good.  As  a  rule,  the  nos- 
iest and  least  attentive  schools  are  those  in  which  such 
cries  are  most  frequently  heard.  The  psychology  of  tne 
matter  is  briefly  presented  by  Professor  J.  M.  Baldwin  in 
these  sentences : 

"It  is  a  familiar  principle  that  attention  to  the  thought  of  a  move- 
ment tends  to  start  that  very  movement.  I  defy  any  of  my  readers 
Professor  ^°  think  hard  and  long  of  winking  the  left  eye,  and  not 
Baldwin  have  an  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  wink  that  eye. 
Quoted.  There  is  no  better  way  to  make  it  difficult  for  a  child  to 

sit  still  than  to  tell  him  to  sit  still  ;  for  your  words  fill  up  his  attention, 
as  I  have  occasion  to  say  above,  with  the  thought  of  movements,  and 
these  thoughts  bring  on  the  movements,  despite  the  best  intentions  of 
the  child  in  the  way  of  obedience."^ 

To  adapt  Professor  Baldwin's  language  to  the  present 
case,  there  is  no  more  effective  way  to  make  it  hard  or 

1  The  Story  of  the  Mind.     New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1898,  p.  iSo. 


154  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

impossible  for  a  pupil  in  school  to  give  attention  to  a  sub- 
ject than  continually  to  exhort  him  to  do  so. 

The  next  thing  to  be  stated  is  that  the  teacher  should 
appreciate  the  difficulty  as  well  as  the  importance  of  the 
practical  problem.  After  remarking  that  attention  is  fixity 
of  thought,  and  that  it  is  hard  for  adults  to  give  it,  Sir  J. 
G.  Fitch  observes : 

"  We  are  accustomed  to  make  very  heavy  demands  upon  the  child's 
faculty  of  attention.  We  expect  him  to  Hsten  to  teaching  from  nine 
Sir  T.  G.  o'clock  until  twelve  ;  then,  after  a  brief  interval,  to  compose 
Fitch  himself  into  stillness  and  attention  again,  often  giving  him 

Quoted.  instruction,  the  greater  part  of  which  is  above  his  compre- 

hension, and  adapted  to  cases  and  experiences  very  different  from  his 
own.  He  is  naturally  very  impulsive  about  things  that  immediately  sur- 
round him  ;  he  is  curious  to  learn  about  the  sun,  and  the  moon  and  the 
stars  ;  about  distant  countries ;  about  the  manners  of  foreigners ;  about 
birds,  and  beasts,  and  fishes ;  nay,  about  machines  and  many  other 
human  inventions ;  but  he  is  not  prepared  at  first  to  perceive  that  the 
knowledge  which  you  impart  is  related  to  his  daily  life.  You  do  not 
find  the  appetite  for  such  knowledge  already  existing.  You  have  to 
create  it,  and,  until  you  have  created  it,  he  cannot  give  you  the  fixed 
and  earnest  attention  you  want  without  an  effort  which  is  positively 
painful  to  him.''^ 

In  his  picturesque  way,  Professor  James  characterizes 
the  objects  that  attract  the  mind  of  the  normal  child  as 
"  strange  things,  moving  things,  wild  animals,  bright 
things,  pretty  things,  metallic  things,  words,  blows,  blood, 
etc.,  etc.,"  most  of  which,  it  is  almost  needless  to  say,  are 
widely  separated  from  the  ordinary  work  of  the  school- 
room, at  least  as  schools  are  commonly  carried  on. 

Considering  the  urgency  of  the  problem  of  interest,  it 
is  fortunate  that  we  become  interested,  or  at  least  tend  to 

*  The  Art  o/ Securing  Attention.     Syracuse,  C.  \V.  Barden,  1SS5. 


CUL  TI VA  TION  OF  A  CTI VE  A  TTENTJON.         \  5  5 

become  interested,  in  our  choices  because  we  have  made 

them.     In    reality    they   are    a  part  of  ourselves.     The 

mental    law    that    whatever    costs    us    effort 

Choices  Ml 

Tend  to  almost    neccssanly    becomes    valuable    to  us, 

Become  causcs  the  succulcnt  plant  of  interest  to  crow 

Interesting.  *  ° 

up  out  of  the  dry  ground  of  irksome  employ- 
ments.  Not  only  does  activity  spring  from  interest,  but 
interest  springs  from  activity.  Nor  does  the  series  neces- 
sarily begin  with  interest ;  it  may  begin  with  choice.  The 
mother  loves  best  the  child  that  has  cost  her  most  care ; 
the  minister  or  the  Sunday-school  teacher  cannot  be  in- 
different to  the  church  or  the  school  that  has  been  an 
object  of  thought  and  sacrifice ;  while  the  veteran  scholar 
becomes  so  much  interested  in  his  favorite  study  that 
he  tends  to  exaggerate  its  relative  importance.  We 
read  that  Jacob  served  seven  years  for  Rachel,  and  they 
seemed  unto  him  but  a  few  days  for  the  love  he  had  for 
her.  Yes,  but  his  love  grew  the  more  by  reason  of  his 
long,  hard  service.  The  interests,  like  the  passions,  grow 
with  what  they  feed  on.  No  matter  how  we  are  brought 
to  follow  any  course  of  action,  unless  it  is  forced  upon 
us,  we  can  hardly  look  upon  it  with  utter  indifference, 
and,  even  when  it  is  compulsory,  we  tend  to  become  rec- 
onciled and  even  interested.  This  is  one  of  the  reactions 
of  the  will  upon  knowledge.  No  man  can  compute  the 
extent  to  which  this  simple  law  of  mind  smooths  the  path- 
way of  life,  making  tolerable  or  even  pleasant  employ- 
ment of  what  would  otherwise  be  intolerable  servi- 
tude. The  principle  underlies  the  great  lesson  that 
Jesus  taught :  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  re- 
ceive." 

Perhaps  it  may  be  said   that  interest    is  necessarily  in- 
volved in  making  a  choice.     We  do  not   need  nicely  to 


156 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


weigh  that  question.  It  is  a  fact,  at  least,  that  choice  does 
not  always  move  in  the  line  of  the  strongest  attraction  or 
of  the  least  resistance, — that  when  the  decision  lies  be- 
tween two  interests  the  will  does  not  always  prefer   the 

stronger  one.  The  contrary  is  distinctly  true. 
MoHves  Thus,  a  student  who  would  prefer  to  go  to 
than  In-        ^.j-jg    "  links  "  to   play  golf  Can   sit   down  at  his 

table  and  prepare  his  lesson.  If  men  were 
not  capable  of  so  acting  life  would  not  be  worth  living. 
The  choice  that  is  made  may  be  a  hard  one,  but  when 
once  the  will  decides,  if  it  persists  in  the  decision,  new 
motives  begin  to  rally  to  its  support.  Interest  be- 
gins to  grow,  as  remarked  above.  One  can  even  become 
interested  in  **  Hobson's  Choice."  More  than  this,  self- 
respect,  the  shame  following  defeat,  love  of  success  and 
victory,  pride,  pugnacity,  the  delight  that  comes  of  con- 
flict, all  rally  to  the  standard  that  has  been  set  up.  More- 
over, these  are  perfectly  legitimate  motives  for  the  teacher 
to  appeal  to  in  such  contests. 

Continuity  and  intensity  of  mental  effort  are  involved 

in   effective   attention.     Continuous,  intense  application 

will    completely  master  a  problem  or  a   les- 

Continuity  .  ^  ,  ,      ,.  i 

and  inten-  SOU  that  casual  and  disconnected  attention 
sity  of  Men-  ^^j^  ^^^  gQ  much  as  touch.    This  every  scholar 

tal  Efifort.  ^ 

and  teacher  knows  full  well. 
Perhaps  most  teachers  are  content  if  only  their  pupils 
learn  their  lessons.  But  this  is  not  enough  :  how  do  they 
learn  them  ?  Does  the  pupil  spend  more  time  and  en- 
ergy on  the  lesson  than  is  really  necessary  ?  The  man 
who  constructs  a  good  building  is  not  of  necessity  a  good 
builder,  for  questions  of  cost  involving  material  and  time 
must  always  be  considered.  So  he  is  not  a  good 
teacher  who  gets  pupils  to  learn  their  lessons  regardless  of 


CUL  TIVA  TION  OF  A  CTIVE  A  TTENTION.         \  5  7 

time  and  method.  If  a  pupil  can  learn  a  lesson  in  thirty 
minutes,  he  should  not  be  given  an  hour  in  which  to  do 
the  work.  If  superfluous  time  is  allowed  him,  he  is 
almost  certain  to  become  careless,  his  wits  go  wool- 
The  Time  gathering,  and  he  may  not  even  prepare  the 
Element  lesson  as  wcU  as  he  would  have  done  had 
mpor  an  .  j^^  been  limited  to  a  shorter  time.  The  case 
may  be  stated  still  more  strongly.  As  a  rule,  pupils  will 
prepare  their  work  better  in  thirty  minutes  than  in 
double  the  time,  provided  thirty  minutes  is  enough, 
unless  they  are  held  to  a  very  close  account  by  the  teacher. 
Beyond  a  certain  point  the  kind  of  preparation  that  the 
pupil  makes  for  his  recitation  is  quite  apt  to  vary  in- 
versely as  the  amount  of  time  that  is  allowed  him  to 
prepare  it  is  lengthened.  But  this  is  not  the  most  im- 
portant thing.  The  pupil  forms  his  habits  of  study 
while  preparing  his  lessons,  or  he  acquires  his  art  of 
study  while  actually  studying;  and,  in  the  long  run,  his 
art  is  of  greater  importance  than  the  immediate  lessons 
that  are  mastered.  The  habits  of  niind  that  he  forms  in 
the  school  mark  the  pupil  long  after  his  formal  lessons 
are  forgotten.  Moreover,  there  is  no  worse  habit  for  pu- 
pils to  acquire  than  that  of  dawdling  or  dreaming  over 
their  books  or  lessons. 

Teachers    should,   therefore,    allow    their    pupils    time 

enough   to   do   their  work,  but   not    more  than  enough. 

Furthermore,  they  should  see  to  it  that  the 

Teachers  to  ,     •       ,  ,  •        •  r      1         • 

AUow  Pu-      work  IS  done  at  the  expiration  of  the  time. 
pii9  suffi-       jj^  ^i^jg  ^y^y  ti,ey  ^viii  secure  continuous  and 

cient  Time.  ^  ■' 

vigorous  application.  It  is  true  enough  that 
pupils  of  the  same  grade  or  class  differ  in  the  amount  of 
time  that  they  require  to  accomplish  the  work  that  is  set 
for  them  ;  some  are  quicker,  some  slower.     The  difficulty 


1 5 8  THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 

that  the  facts  suggest  is  incidental  to  the  graded  system 
of  schools,  and,  in  fact,  to  all  class  instruction ;  nor  is  it 
altogether  easy  to  overcome  this  difificulty.  It  is  an  ob- 
vious suggestion,  however,  that  extra  work  may  be  as- 
signed to  the  brighter  and  quicker  pupils,  so  as  to  give 
them  ample  employment  while  the  slower  and  duller 
pupils  arc  preparing  their  regular  lessons. 

Something  will  be    said    in   another   place   about   the 

emotional  climate   of   the   school :    here  a  word  or  two 

is  called  for  relative  to  its  intellectual  atmos- 

The  Intel- 
lectual At-      phere.     This   should  be  electrical  with  curios- 

Jhe^schoor/  ^^y'  energy,  vigor,  application.  Pupils  should 
be  on  their  mettle.  If  these  elements  are  se- 
cured, present  lessons  will  be  better  learned,  future  habits 
of  study  will  be  better  formed,  and  those  intellectual 
conditions  aviU  be  established  which  are  most  conducive 
to  mental  health.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  slack,  feeble, 
nerveless  school,  the  intellectual  and  moral  vices  thrive 
apace. 

Much  depends  upon  the  character  and  conduct  of  the 
teacher.  The  teacher  who  has  a  well-developed  power  of 
attention  will  be  much  more  successful  than  the  one  who 
has  no  such  power.  If  the  pupils  see  the  teacher  consist- 
ently pursuing  a  chosen  end,  if  they  perceive 
a  Factor^  ^^  Unity  of  purpose  and  determination  in  all  that 
he  does,  they  are  strongly  influenced  by  the 
example.  It  may  be  due  to  sympathy,  to  imitation,  or  to 
some  other  cause,  but  there  is  no  disputing  the  fact.  The 
pupils  fall  into  the  prevailing  current.  This  may  be  merely 
a  result  of  automatic  action,  but  it  helps  wonderfully  on 
the  active,  voluntary  side.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  pu- 
pils see  that  the  teacher  is  vacillating  or  irresolute,  if 
they  discover  that  he  has  no  settled  aim,  or,  having  one, 


CUL TI VA TION  OF  ACTIVE  A TTEN TION.  \ 5 9 

cannot  pursue  it,  they  respond  to  his  spirit,  unconsciously 
to  themselves  and  to  him.  An  energetic  teacher 
will  energize  pupils,  while  a  limp-minded  one  will 
make  pupils  like  himself.  There  is  a  mental  as  well  as 
a  physical  fatherhood  and  motherhood,  and  it  is  alto- 
gether of  a  higher  character.  This  is  one  reason  why 
the  ancient  Jews  set  the  teacher  above  the  parent : 
the  one  gave  the  child  spiritual  life ;  the  other  only 
natural  life. 

Attention  depends  largely  upon  favorable  physical 
conditions.  The  health  of  the  pupil,  his  physical  tone, 
Ph  sicai  ^^^  suitability  or  unsuitability  of  the  school 
Conditions,  furniture,  the  comfort  or  the  discomfort  of  the 
schoolroom,  the  order  in  which  the  pupils  are  seated, 
the  occurrence  of  recess  or  recreation  periods — these  are 
all  things  to  be  carefully  considered.  If  children  are 
sick,  if  the  seats  in  which  they  sit  keep  them  in  continual 
pain,  if  the  air  is  highly  impure,  if  the  temperature  is 
much  too  high  or  much  too  low,  if  the  light  is  painful  to 
their  eyes, — it  is  plain,  or  should  be  plain,  that  they  can- 
not give  close  attention  to  their  lessons.  Men  are  begin- 
ning to  understand  much  better  than  in  former  times 
the  extent  to  which  these  physical  factors  directly  affect 
study  and  school  education,  and  thus  become  moral  causes 
themselves.  The  new  psychology  is  amplifying  and 
enforcing  the  old  lessons,  if  not  discovering  new  ones. 
When  a  distinguished  physician  of  London  said  that  he 
regulated  the  number  of  blankets  on  his  bed  by  the  ther- 
mometer and  not  by  his  sensations,  he  may  have  been 
rather  absurd,  or  at  least  mechanical ;  but  to  find  moral 
causes  in  degrees  Fahrenheit  is  a  strictly  rational  pro- 
ceeding. 

Teachers  often   make  serious  mistakes  in   seekine    to 


l6o  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

repress  unduly  the  physical  activities  of  children   while  in 
school.     So  far  from  such  activities  always  re- 

Physical  ,-  i  r  ,     r      -i- 

Movements  tardiHg,  they  often  accompany  and    facilitate 
and  Atten-    j^ygtaiucd  attention.     Changes  of  position  not 
only  relieve  the  body  but  stimulate  brain  activ- 
ity.    On  this  point  Ribot  has  written  : 

"  Everybody  knows  that  attention,  at  least  in  its  reflected  form,  is 

at  times  accompanied  by  movements.     Many  people  seem  to  find  that 

walking  to  and  fro  helps  them  out  of  perplexity  ;  others 

^^^°* .  strike  their  forehead,  scratch  their  head,  rub  their  eyes, 

Quoted.  ^ 

move  their  arms  and  legs  about  in  an  incessant,  rhyth- 
mical fashion.  This,  indeed,  is  an  expenditure,  not  an  economy, 
of  motion.  But  it  is  a  profitable  expenditure.  The  movements  thus 
produced  are  not  simple  mechanical  phenomena  acting  upon  our  ex- 
ternal surroundings  ;  they  act  also  through  the  muscular  sense  upon 
the  brain,  which  receives  them  as  it  receives  all  other  sensorial  im- 
pressions, to  the  increase  of  the  brain's  activity.  A  rapid  walk,  a  race, 
will  also  quicken  the  flow  of  ideas  and  words."  i 

A  full  discussion  of  the  subject  would  involve  the  rela- 
tion of  the  motor  activities  to  the  intellectual  activities. 

The  child's  growing  voluntary  attention  must  be  pro- 
tected against  his  spontaneous  interests.  If  he  is  trying 
din  ^°  ^^  ^^^^  mind  upon  some  chosen  or  appointed 
Influences,  object,  such  as  a  lesson,  he  should  be  shielded 
as  far  as  possible  from  other  objects  which  may  be  of 
greater  immediate  attractiveness.  It  would  be  well  in- 
deed if  such  things  could  for  the  time  be  altogether  ex- 
cluded from  his  view.  Dr.  Harris  speaks  of  "  invading 
external  influences,"  and  the  phrase  is  happily  chosen, 
suggesting  the  opposition  that  exists  between  external 
objects  that  are  immediately  present  to  the  senses  and 
real  intellectual  activities,  such  as  judgment  and  thinking. 

*  The  Psychology  of  Attention.     Chicago,  The  Open  Court  Pub.  Co.,  1890, 
p.  24. 


CUL  TI VA  TIOX  OF  ACTI I  'E  A  TTEXTION.  1 6i 

At  a  time  when  much  is  said,  and  very  properly  too, 
about  cultivating  the  senses  through  objective  teaching,  it 
is  important  to  remember  that  the  higher  faculties  cannot 
grow  unless,  for  the  time  being,  the  world  of  sense  is  shut 
out  from  the  mind.  In  fixing  the  mind  upon  a  subject, 
it  is  sometimes  of  advantage  to  close  the  eyes,  thus  shut- 
ting out  the  sense  world  altogether.  Some  persons 
have  even  found  a  compensation  for  blindness  in  the 
greater  command  that  they  thus  gained  over  their  own 
minds.  President  Dwight,  the  distinguished  scholar  and 
theologian,  who  lived  early  in  the  century,  accord- 
ing to  Dr.  John  Todd,  "  used  to  consider  the  loss  of  his 
eyes  a  great  blessing  to  him,  inasmuch  as  it  strength- 
ened the  power  of  attention  and  compelled  him  to 
think." 

The  principle  that  has  been  presented  has  many  im- 
portant applications,  both  in  the  home  and  in  the  school. 
Tern  ta-  ^^  ^  ^^^  ^^  mucli  interested  in  skating,  and  but 
tionstobe  little  interested  in  books,  it  would  plainly  be 
emove  .  ^^^  ^^^  ^^  folly  to  dangle  a  pair  of  skates  before 
his  eyes  at  the  very  moment  that  he  is  trying  to  learn 
his  lesson.  The  girl  who  is  more  interested  in  attending 
social  parties  than  she  is  in  learning  grammar  and  history 
should  not  be  tempted  to  indulgence  in  that  direction, 
but  those  interests  should  rather  be  repressed.  The  rule 
involves  the  exclusion  from  the  school  of  what  are  called 
distracting  influences.  Order  should  be  maintained,  not 
merely  for  the  sake  of  moral  discipline,  but  so  that  the 
pupils  may  be  able  to  learn  and  to  recite  their  lessons. 
Silence  is  one  of  the  moral  virtues  in  school.  Then,  the 
school  environment  is  only  less  important  than  the  in- 
ternal regimen.  Reverting  to  a  former  illustration,  the 
boy    who    is    trying    to     prepare    his    arithmetic     lesson 

Art  of  Study. —  ■  i. 


, 62  THE  ART  OF  S TUD  V. 

should  be  protected,  if  it  can  be  done,  against  the 
"  invading  external  influences  "  of  the  brass  band  on  the 
street.'^ 

To  be  sure  these  matters  are  often  difficult  to  regulate, 
and  are  sometimes  vvholly  beyond  the  teacher's  control. 
jjj  ^^  _  Bands  of  music,  for  instance,  do  not  generally 
tions.  confer   with    teachers    in    the  schoolhouses  as 

to  where  and  when  they  shall  play  All  that  can  be  said 
is  that  teachers  must  do  the  best  they  can  in  view  of  all 
the  premises.  Certainly  it  is  fortunate  that  the  phrase 
"  distracting  influences,"  like  so  many  other  phrases,  is 
purely  relative.  What  distracts  A  does  not  distract  B,  or 
distract  him  to  the  same  extent ;  while  what  distracts  either 
A  or  B  does  not  distract  him  or  distract  him  to  the  same 
extent  at  all  times.  Much  depends  upon  association. 
Children  accustomed  to  the  life  of  a  large  city  are  not 


^  The  principles  set  forth  in  this  paragraph  are  even  more  important  in 
the  moral  than  in  the  intellectual  life.     To  quote  from  Dr.  Bain : 

"The  peculiarity  of  the  moral  habits,  contradistinguishing  them  from 
the  intellectual  acquisitions,  is  the  presence  of  two  hostile  powers,  one  to 
be  gradually  raised  into  the  ascendant  over  the  other.  It  is  necessary, 
above  all  things,  in  such  a  situation,  if  possible,  never  to  lose  a  battle. 
Every  gain  on  the  wrong  side  undoes  the  effect  of  several  conquests  on  the 
right.  It  is  therefore  an  essential  precaution  so  to  regulate  the  two  op- 
posing powers  that  the  one  may  have  a  series  of  uninterrupted  successes, 
until  repetition  has  fortified  it  to  such  a  degree  as  to  cope  with  the  opposi- 
tion under  any  circumstances.  This  is  the  theoretically  best  career  of 
moral  progress,  not  often  realized  in  practice.  .  .  .  We  gain  nothing  by 
leaving  a  hungry  child  within  reach  of  forbidden  fruit ;  the  education  not 
being  yet  sufficiently  advanced  strength  to  give  to  the  motive  of  restraint. 
We  begin  by  slight  temptations  on  the  one  side,  while  strongly  fortifjing 
the  motives  on  the  other ;  and  if  there  are  no  untoward  reverses  to  throw 
back  the  pupils,  we  count  upon  a  certain  steady  progress  in  the  ascendency 
that  we  aim  at  establishing." — T/if  Emotions  and  the  Will.  New  York, 
D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1876,  pp.  440,  441. 


CUL  TI VA  TION  OF  ACTI VE  A  TTENTION.         \ 63 

disturbed  by  the  noises  that  surge  around  the  school- 
house,  while  country  children  translated  to  such  a  spot 
can  do  little  or  nothing  until  the  novelty  of  the  situation 
has  worn  off.  It  is  very  important  for  young  people  to 
learn  to  control  their  minds,  even  in  the  midst  of  con- 
fusion  and  excitement,  but  they  will  never  learn  that 
lesson  if  they  are  distracted  beyond  measure. 

Much  is  said  nowadays  about  beautifying  school 
grounds  and  the  schoolroom.  The  subject  is  an  im- 
Aesthetics  portant  pne,  and  shares  the  new  interest  that 
in  the  j^^g  sprung  uD  of  late  years  in  aesthetic  develop- 

Schoolroom.  ^  ,  ,  ,  t 

ment.  But  the  matter  may  be  overdone,  in 
fact,  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  schoolroom  decoration 
will  become  a  fad,  if  it  has  not  already  done  so.  At  least 
one  thing  is  clear,  viz. :  the  schoolroom  may  be  made  so 
attractive  to  the  eye  or  the  ear,  sensuous  elements  may  be 
so  accumulated,  that  real  intellectual  labor  will  either  be 
carried  on  with  much  difficulty  or  be  wholly  stifled.  A 
piano  is  a  desirable  piece  of  schoolroom  furniture,  if 
properly  used,'  but  a  singing  canary  would  be  a  nuis- 
ance. 

It  is  a  painful  state  of  affairs  in  school  when  active 
attention  draws  the  pupil  in  one  direction  and  passive  at- 
The  Two  tention  in  another.  Will  and  interest  are  now 
should  A^^  opposed  each  to  the  other.  When  a  teamster 
Together,  wislies  to  movc  a  heavily  loaded  wagon  he  does 
not  hitch  one  team  of  horses  at  the  front,  and  another 
at  the  back,  and  then  start  them  in  opposite  directions,  but 
he  hitches  both  teams  at  the  front  and  starts  them  in  the 
same  direction.  This  is  one  of  the  teacher's  most  practical 
problems  —  to  get  the  two  attentions,  active  and  passive,  to 
work  freely  together  towards  the  same  point.  How  is 
this  to  be  done  ?     Mow  shall  the  teacher  brin<j  interest  to 


1 64  THE  ART  OF  STUD  V. 

his  side  in  the  struggle  to  focalize,  and  to  keep  focalized, 
the  pupil's  mind  ?  Many  suggestions  have  already  been 
offered  that  bear  more  or  less  directly  upon  this  point, 
but  the  time  has  now  come  for  a  more  direct  and  a 
more  practical  answer  to  the  question. 

The  teacher's  first  duty  is  to  lay  hold  of  such  of  the 
pupil's  old  interests  as  can  be  made  available.  Atten- 
The  Teacher  tion  is  possible  Only  on  the  two  conditions, 
to  Summon  ^]^^|-  ^\^q  child  shall  have  something  to  pay  at- 

Old  Inter-  .  .  .  . 

ests.  tention  wit/i  and  something  to  pay  attention  to. 

At  this  point  we  meet  the  doctrine  or  the  fact  of  ap- 
perception and  its  application  to  learning  and  teaching. 
As  Professor  James  says,  the  teacher  who  wishes  to  en- 
gage the  attention  of  his  class  must  knit  his  novelties  on 
to  the  things  of  which  the  pupils  already  have  perceptions. 
The  old  and  familiar  is  readily  attended  to  by  the  mind 
and  helps,  in  turn,  to  hold  the  new.  To  apperceive  is  to 
perceive  a  new  thing  through  an  old  one.  Accordingly, 
the  more  a  pupil  knows,  the  greater  his  store  of  facts  and 
ideas,  the  wider  his  range  of  experience,  that  is,  the  more 
numerous  and  the  richer  his  apperceiving  centers,  the 
easier  it  is  to  interest  him  in  new  things.  Still  the  new 
things  must  not  be  too  new,  that  is,  too  unlike  the  old 
things.  The  progress  of  knowledge  is  from  the  known  to 
the  related  unknown. 

The  teacher's  second  duty  is  to  develop  new  interests 
Of  new  centers  of  interest.  Still,  the  fact  just  stated  must 
The  Teach-  be  borne  in  mind — the  new  must  not  be  too 
er  to  Create  ^^^Yike  the  old.     In  fact,  what  is  here  called  the 

New  Inter-  ' 

ests.  creation  of  new  interests  is  not  so  much,  per- 

haps, their  absolute  creation  as  it  is  their  transference  from 
one  subject  to  another  subject,  or  from  one  thing  to  an- 
other thing.      Perhaps  it  can  be  psychologically  shown 


CUL  TI VA  TION  OF  ACTI VE  A  TTEX TIOX.         165 

that  all  interests,  wide  and  diversified  as  they  become, 
are  developed  from  a  few  ultimate  roots.  Characterized 
from  the  teacher's  point  of  view,  the  transference  of  inter- 
ests is  sometimes  called  borrowing.  Every  person  who 
has  given  particular  thought  to  the  matter  has  been  sur- 
prised to  see  the  extent  to  which  such  borrowing  is  actu- 
ally carried  on  in  the  mental  life.  It  is  a  process  of  first 
importance  to  teachers. 

An  example  of  a  borrowed  interest  may  be  taken  from 
common  life.  A  lady  who  was  in  feeble  health  for  a 
Borrowing  number  of  years  found  congenial  employment, 
An*Ex-*^"  ^^  ^^'^^^  ^^  relief  from  pain,  in  the  care  of  a 
ample.  small   Collection    of    potted    plants.       Her   in- 

terest, which  was  a  pure  outgrowth  of  ill  health  and 
enforced  abstinence  from  her  accustomed  employments, 
tended  to  grow  beyond  the  limits  of  her  own  small  collec- 
tion. On  her  death,  her  mother,  an  elderly  woman,  who 
had  never  shown  any  real  interest  in  flowers,  and  had 
found  plenty  of  occupation  in  other  things,  became  at- 
tached to  this  collection  of  plants  solely  because  they  had 
belonged  to  her  dear  daughter.  Nor  was  this  all ;  these 
particular  plants  created  a  growing  interest  in  other  plants, 
which  ended  only  with  the  lady's  life.  Coming  back 
again  to  an  old  topic  :  interests  far  from  being  deter- 
minate in  number  and  permanent  in  character,  arc  rather 
of  easy  propagation   and  of  a  plastic  nature. 

Coming  nearer  to  the  school,  Ribot  gives  this  interest- 
ing example  of  using  one  interest  to  build  up  another  : 

"  A  child  refuses  to  learn  how  to  read ;  it  is  incapable  of  keeping 
its  mind  fixed  upon  letters  that  have  no  attraction  for  it ;  but  it  will 
A  Second  gaze  with  eagerness  upon  pictures  in  a  book.  'What 
Example,  do  those  pictures  mean  ?  "  Its  father  answers  :  '  When 
you  know  how  to  read,  the  book  will  tell  you.'     After  a  few  talks  of 


1 66  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

this  kind  the  child  finally  gives  up ;  at  first  it  sets  about  the  task 
lazily,  but  afterwards  it  becomes  accustomed  to  its  work,  and  finally 
evinces  an  eagerness  that  needs  to  be  checked.  In  this  we  have  an 
instance  of  the  genesis  of  voluntary  attention.  It  was  necessary  to  graft 
upon  a  desire  natural  and  direct,  a  desire  artificial  and  indirect 
Reading  is  an  operation  that  does  not  possess  an  immediate  attrac- 
tion, but  as  a  means  to  an  end  it  has  an  attraction, — a  kind  of  bor- 
rowed attraction, — and  that  is  sufficient :  the  child  has  been  caught  in 
a  wheel-work,  as  it  were,  and  the  first  step  has  been  accomplished." 

Ribot  also  quotes  an  example  from  Perez  as  follows : 

"  A  child  six  years  old,  habitually  very  inaticnthic,  went  to  the 
piano  one  day,  of  its  own  accord,  to  repeat  an  air  that  pleased  its 
A  Third  mother-;  and  it  remained  there  for  over  an  hour.  The 
Example,  same  child,  at  the  age  of  seven,  seeing  its  brother  engaged 
about  some  of  his  holiday  duties,  entered  and  seated  itself  in  its 
father's  study.  '  What  are  you  doing  ?  '  asked  the  nurse,  astonished 
at  finding  the  child  there.  '  I  am  doing  a  page  of  German  ;  it  is  not 
very  amusing,  but  I  wish  to  give  mamma  a  pleasant  surprise.'  "  i 

In  the  first  of  Ribot's  cases,  the  child  is  desirous  of  read- 
ing that  he  may  understand  the  pictures.  In  the  second 
Remarks  on  casc,  the  child  practices  the  music  lesson  and 
Second  and  Jearns  the  pagfe  of  German  that  he  may  please 

Third  Ex-  ^    °  .  ■'    ^ 

ampies.  his  mother.  The  first  is  a  selfish,  the  second 
a  sympathetic,  motive  ;  but  both  well  illustrate  how  the 
teacher  may  gain  his  ends  by  borrowing  a  force  that 
already  exists.  The  second  example  suggests  the  reflec- 
tion that  sympathy  is  a  force  that  may  be  drawn  upon 
almost  ad  libitum.  A  pupil  who  will  not  learn  a  lesson 
from  personal  interest,  will  often  learn  it  to  surprise  his 
mother  or  to  please  his  teacher.  This  being  so,  the 
emotional  adjustment  of  the  pupil  to  his  teacher  be- 
comes at  once  an  important  and  practical  question,  as 
we  shall  see  more  clearly  in  another  place. 

i  The  Psychology  of  Attention.     Chicago,  Open  Court  Pub.  Co.,  1890,  p.  38. 


CUL  TIVA  TION  OF  ACTIVE  A  TTENTION.         167 

What  has  been  said  about  building   up  one    interest 

through  another  one  suggests  the  dependence  of  studies 

A  Question  upon  one  another,   or  what   is   known  in  the 

of  correia-  science  of  education  as  the  problem  of  correla- 
tion. .  '■ 

tion,   or  of  correlated    studies.     The  practical 

significance  of  this  problem,  which  will  not  be  treated  in 
this  place  at  length,  is  that  the  wise  teacher  uses  one 
study  to  teach  another.  Changing  the  form  of  the 
expression,  correlation  consists  in  organizing  studies,  or 
the  teaching  of  studies,  so  as  to  make  work  done  in  one  sub- 
ject contribute  to  progress  in  one  or  more  other  subjects. 
Passing  by  a  larger  topic,  or  correlation  proper,  a  pupil's 
interest  in  geography  is  invoked  by  the  teacher  of  his- 
tory, and  I'ice  versa  ;  or  the  teacher  lays  all  the  pupil's 
attainments  under  contribution  in  teaching  literature, 
which  comes  nearer  than  any  other  subject  to  being  a 
full  expression  of  human  life. 

Ribot  thus  describes  the  methods  to  be  employed  in 
calling  out  and  solidifying  voluntary  attention  : 

"  In  the  first  period,  the  educator  acts  only  upon  simple  feelings. 

He  employs  fear  in  all  its  forms,  egotistic  tendencies,  the  attraction  of 

Ribot  on        rewards,  tender  and  sympathetic  emotions,  as  well  as  our 

CaHing  Out  innate  curiosity,  which  seems  to  be  the  appetite  of  intel- 

Active  ligence,  and  which  to  a  certain  degree  —  no  matter  how 

Attention.  ,         .     -  ,  .  ,      , 

weak  —  IS  found  m  ever^-body. 

"  During  the  second  period,  artificial  attention  is  aroused  and  main- 
tained by  means  of  feelings  of  secondary  formation,  such  as  love  of 
self,  emulation,  ambition,  interest  in  a  practical  line,  duty,  etc. 

•'The  third  period  is  that  of  organization  ;  attention  is  aroused  and, 
sustained  by  habit.  The  pupil  in  the  class  room,  the  workman  in  his 
shop,  the  clerk  at  his  office,  the  tradesman  behind  his  counter,  all 
would,  as  a  rule,  prefer  to  be  somewhere  else  ;  but  egotism,  ambition, 
and  interest  have  created  by  repetition  a  fixed  and  lasting  habit.  Ac- 
quired attention  has  thus  become  a  second  nature,  and  the  artificial 
process  is   complete.     The  mere   fact  of  being   placed  in  a   certain 


1 68  'J'l^^  AR  T  OF  STUD  Y. 

attitude  amid  certain  surroundings  brings  with  it  all  the  rest ;  atten- 
tion is  produced  and  sustained  less  through  present  causes  than 
through  an  accumulation  of  prior  causes  ;  habitual  motives  having  ac- 
quired the  force  of  natural  motives.  Individuals  refractory  to  educa- 
tion and  discipline  never  attain  to  this  third  period  ;  in  such  people  vol- 
untary attention  is  seldom  produced,  or  only  intermittently,  and  cannot 
become  a  habit."  ^ 

Thus  far,  I  have  conducted  the  argument  as  though, 
in  developing  attention,  everything  depended  upon  the 
The  Pas-  teacher.  In  the  early  stage  of  education  this 
sage  from  is  the  precise  fact.  The  child's  will  is  feeble, 
Active  At-  while  external  attractions  are  strong;  and  it  is 
tention.  long  before  he  can  direct  his  own  attention. 
The  teacher  must,  therefore,  direct  it  for  him.  But  in  time 
the  child  will  become  able  to  take  a  part  in  the  work,  and 
still  later  to  take  complete  charge  of  it.  Hence  the  teacher 
should  progressively  withhold  his  direction  and  throw  the 
pupil  more  and  more  upon  his  own  resources.  It  is  only 
by  using  his  own  will  that  the  pupil  learns  /102a  to  use  it. 
The  transition  is  one  to  be  closely  watched,  for  it  is  hard 
to  say  whether  it  is  more  harmful  for  the  teacher  to  with- 
draw  assistance  too  soon  or  too  rapidly,  than  to  continue 
it  too  long.  Sooner  or  later  the  pupil  will  become  self- 
conscious  in  the  matter;  he  will  observe  the  fact  of  at- 
tention, reflect  upon  it  more  or  less,  and,  in  some  measure, 
shape  his  own  course  accordingly.  At  this  stage  the 
teacher  can  render  him  some  real  assistance  by  furnishing 
judicious  instruction  concerning  attention  and  habits  of 
study.  But  this  stage  of  development  must  not  be  antic- 
ipated. 

It  is  therefore  necessary  for  us  to  give  attention  to  this 
more  advanced  stage  of  mental  growth  —  the  stage  when 

»  T/ie  Psychology  of  Attention.  Chicago,  The  Open  Court  Publishing  Co., 
1S90,  pp.  39,  40. 


C UL  TI VA  TION  OF  ACTIVE  A  TTEN TION.         \ 69 

pupils  are  able  to  consider  what  is  good  for  them,  and  so 
to  pay  some  attention  to  the  art  of  study  in  a  reflective 
sense.  Furthermore,  teachers  are  directly  concerned  in 
the  subject,  for  they  are,  or  should  be,  students  them- 
selves, interested  in  all  that  relates  to  their  own  self-culti- 
vation.    A  future  chapter  will  be  devoted  to  the  subject. 

Parallel  Reading.  —  The  Principles  of  Psychology,  William 
James.  New  York,  Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  1890.  Chap.  XXVI. 
("  The  Will  ") .  The  Art  of  Securing  Attention,  Sir  J.  G.  Fitch. 
Syracuse,  C.  W.  Bardeen,  1885. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THOROUGHNESS. 

Thoroughness  is  the  frequent  theme  of  lecturers  and 
writers  on  education,  and  of  critics  outside  of  the  profes- 
sion who  essay  to  pass  judgment  upon  teachers  and 
schools.  The  pupil  and  the  teacher  alike  are  praised 
or  blamed  according  as  they  are  judged  to  be  thorough  or 
the  contrary, — the  pupil  in  learning,  the  teacher  in  teach- 
ing. There  are  three  decisive  reasons  for  emphasizing 
thoroughness  in  education. 

I.  Thoroughness  is  essential  to  a  correct  understanding 
of  the  matter  immediately  in  hand,  whether  it  be  a  study, 
lesson,  or  even  some  subdivision  of  a  lesson. 
vatuTof  Without  it  there  can  be  no  correct  ideas,  no 
Thorough-  clear,  sound  knowledge.  All  competent  per- 
sons who  have  had  an  opportunity  to  test  it 
know  full  well  how  incorrect,  or  vague  and  untrust- 
worthy, is  much  of  what  popularly  passes  for  knowledge. 
The  ideas  that  many  men  form  of  things  that  they  see,  the 
meaning  that  they  get  out  of  an  article  or  even  a  para- 
graph read  in  the  newspaper,  their  general  understanding 
of  a  speech  or  sermon  that  they  have  heard — these  would 
be  surprising  if  they  were  not  such  familiar  facts.  The 
explanation  is  that  these  persons  do  not  give  real  atten- 

170 


THORO  UGH  NESS. 


171 


tion  to  the  matter,  or  do  not  give  attention  enough  to  en- 
able them  to  get  a  sound  understanding  of  it.  The  mind 
is  like  the  quick,  sensitive  plate  of  the  camera,  but  it  is 
not  quick  enough  to  receive  clear,  strong  pictures  of  ob- 
jects on  a  single  short  exposure. 

What  has  now  been  said  is  true  of  perceptive  or  simple 
concrete  ideas,  but  if  possible,  it  is  even  more  true  of  gen- 
eral ideas,  and  of  the  conclusions  that  are  reached  by 
thinking.  One  reason  why  so  much  thinking  is  wrong  is 
that  it  starts  with  imperfect  ideas  of  the  things  that  are 
made  the  objects  of  thought.  In  the  following  passage 
Dr.  Faraday  shows  how  necessary  clear  and  precise  ideas 
are  to  secure  the  proper  exercise  of  the  judgment  ; 

"One  exercise  of  the  mind  which  largely  influences  the  power  and 
character  of  the  judgment  is  the  habit  of  forming  clear  and  precise 

ideas.  If,  after  considering  a  subject  in  our  ordinary 
Dr.  Faraday  manner,  we  return  upon  it  with  the  special  purpose  of 
Ideas.  noticing   the  condition   of    our    thoughts,  we  shall   be 

astonished  to  find  how  little  precise  they  remain.  On 
recalling  the  phenomena  relating  to  a  matter  of  fact,  the  circum- 
stances modifying  them,  the  kind  and  amount  of  action  presented, 
the  real  or  probable  result,  we  shall  find  that  the  first  impres- 
sions are  scarcely  fit  for  the  foundation  of  a  judgment  and  that 
the  second  thoughts  will  be  best.  For  the  acquirement  of  a  good 
condition  of  mind  in  this  respect,  the  thoughts  should  be  trained  to  a 
habit  of  clear  and  precise  formation,  so  that  vivid  and  distinct  impres- 
sions of  the  matter  in  hand,  its  circumstances  and  consequences, 
may  remain."  1 

One  who  understands  the  nature  of  the  child  mind  and 
who  considers   the  defects   and    tendencies  of  teachers, 

1  See  a  valuable  paper  entitled  "The  Education  of  the  Judgment,"  in 
The  Culture  Demamlni  by  Afodern  Life,  edited  by  E.  L.  Voumans.  New 
York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1867,  p.  206. 


172 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


should  feel  no  surprise  that  school  work  is  often  anything 
but  thorough. 

The  training  of  the  judgment  is  a  matter  of  the  first 
importance.  Dr.  Franklin  invented  a  device  for  handling 
doubtful  questions,  or  questions  arising  in  daily  life,  that 
he  entitled  "  Moral  Algebra."  When  circumstances  ad- 
mit of  its  use,  it  is  really  an  admirable  method  of  reach- 
ing sound  conclusions  and  of  disciplining  the  judgment.'^ 
These  are  its  essential  elements : 

Divide  half  a  sheet  of  paper  into  two  perpendicular 
columns  by  a  straight  line,  writing  over  the  one /r^  and 
ii^ankiin's  over  the  other  con.  Then  set  down  the  various 
"Moral         reasons,  arguments,  or  motives  that  are  in  fa- 

^^  ^^'  vor  of  the  pending  question,  and  those  that  are 
against  it,  allowing  several  days,  if  necessary,  for  them  to 
present  themselves  to  the  mind.  When  this  process 
has  been  completed,  estimate  carefully  the  weight  of 
the  several  arguments.  Next,  if  two  opposing  arguments 
seem  to  be  equal,  strike  them  off,  or  if  one  on  one  side 
appears  to  balance  two  on  the  other  side,  or  if  two  on  one 
side  balance  three  on  the  other  side,  strike  off  the  three 
or  the  five.  In  this  way  a  determination  is  reached  in 
the  same  manner  as  in  the  familiar  arithmetical  operation 
called  "  cancellation."  The  advantage  of  this  method  is 
that  it  leads  to  diligence  in  collecting  proofs  affecting 
the  question /r^  and  con,  compels  care  in  weighing  them, 
and  brings  them  all  before  the  mind  in  one  view  before 
determination  is  reached.  These  so  called  doubtful 
questions   are  difficult,  as  Franklin  explains,  chiefly  be- 


*  Franklin's  letter  explaining  this  method  is  quoted  by  Dr.  Bain  in 
The  Emotions  and  the  Will.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1876^ 
pp.  413-414- 


THORO  UGILVESS. 


173 


cause  all  the  reasons  pro  and  con  are  not  present  in  the 
mind  at  the  same  time.  This  is  the  source  of  "  the  vari- 
ous purposes  or  incHnations  that  alternately  prevail,  and 
the  uncertainty  that  perplexes  us." 

2.  Thoroughness  in  the  matter   immediately  in  hand  is 
essential  to  future  thoroughness  and  progress  in  knowl- 
edge.    What   is  learned  to-day  is  the  founda- 

Pttture 

Value  of  tion  of  what  will  be  learned  to-morrow;  and,  if 
Thorough-    j^j^g  foundation  is  weak  and  insecure,  so  will  the 

ness. 

superstructure  be.  The  pupil's  theoretical  or 
scientific  arithmetic  is  an  outgrowth  of  his  concrete  num- 
ber work.  His  knowledge  of  the  natural  and  physical 
sciences  is  built  up  on  the  basis  of  his  first  contacts  with 
the  natural  or  physical  world.  His  history  and  his  civics 
are  developed  out  of  his  daily  observations  of  men  in  the 
little  society  or  social  world  about  him.  His  moral  and 
religious  conceptions  originate  in  his  personal  experi- 
ences in  the  home  and  in  the  social  circle.  "  If  a  man  love 
not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,"  it  has  been  asked, 
"  how  can  he  love  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen  ?  "  What 
could  be  more  natural  or  inevitable,  then,  than  that  the 
false  or  imperfect  ideas  which  characterize  these  early  sub- 
jects of  knowledge  should  more  or  less  mark  the  whole 
later  mental  and  moral  development  ? 

3.  The  final  reason  why  school  work  should  be  well 
done  is  that,  while  the  pupil  is  doing  it,  he  is  building  up 
mental  habits  which  will  cling  to  him  through  life.  This 
point  has  been  dwelt  upon  in  dealing  with  attention,  but 
the  fact  should  again  be  emphasized  that  good  teaching 
leads  to  two  results:  one,  the  acquisition  of  knowledge; 
the  other,  mental  discipline.  The  mind  is  furnished  and 
formed  at  the  same  time,  but  only  too  often  in  its  forma- 
tion  the   clement    of  discipline  is  overlooked    in   whole 


174 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


or  in  part.  It  is  not  true,  indeed,  that  there  is  a  formal 
mental  habit  called  thoroughness.  The  boy  who  is 
thorough  in  studies  at  school  does  not  always  make  a 
thorough  business  or  professional  man  ;  neither  does 
thoroughness  in  one  study  or  pursuit  necessarily  imply 
this  habit  in  another,  though  it  tends  to  beget  it  in  re- 
lated things. 

To  recur  to  a  topic  that  has  already  come  before  us, 

the    complaint   by  teachers  in    the  schools  is   incessant 

and    insistent,    that    pupils,    as    a    class,    or    at    least   in 

large  numbers,  cannot  do    their  proper  work 

I,ack  of  ,      **  ,  ,  ,  ,    ^  , 

Thorough-  becausc  they  nave  not  been  properly  prepared 
ness  in  the   [q^  \^^     ThQ  Cry  becomes  louder  rather   than 

Schools. 

fainter  as  we  near  the  top  of  the  educational 
ladder.  No  doubt  some,  and  probably  many,  of  these 
murmurings  are  unreasonable.  Sometimes  they  proceed 
from  inefificient  teachers  who  seek  thus  to  conceal  their 
own  defects  and  failures  ;  sometimes,  from  enthusiastic 
teachers  who  place  their  standards  too  high  and  have 
failed  to  reach  them  ;  but,  taken  together,  they  represent 
a  large  amount  of  undeniable  truth.  Some  of  the  work 
attempted  in  schools  is  not  done  at  all,  and  much  of  it  is 
but  half  done. 

Now  the  worst  of  it  is  that,  as  a  rule,  it  is  difificult 
to  substitute  sound  knowledge  for  unsound  knowledge. 
Ideas  that  are  lacking  in  clearness  do  not 
Unsound,  always  become  clarified  or  definite  with  time. 
Knowledge  Yov  this  there  are  two  reasons,  one  of  them 
being  that  the  pupil  or  adult  is  too  impatient  to  go  for- 
ward to  be  too  willing  go  back  and  "  clear  up  "  his  mind.  It 
is  hard  for  him  to  believe  that  he  does  not  understand  the 
matter  already,  and  he  is  often  restrained  by  a  false  pride 
from  taking  what  he  considers  backward  steps,  although 


THORO  UGH  NESS.  I ;  5 

such  steps  may  in  reality  lead  forward.  What  is  more,  a 
false  or  an  erroneous  idea  once  lodged  in  a  person's  mind 
stands  in  the  way  of  his  forming  a  true  or  a  correct  idea. 
His  mind  is  "  littered  up,"  so  to  speak;  or,  as  the  physio- 
logical psychologists  say,  the  nervous  currents  are 
running  in  wrong  channels  and  it  is  hard  to  change 
them.  It  is  the  same  way  with  thought.  In  thinking, 
the  mind  runs  over  a  certain  path  connecting  certain  ideas, 
and  if,  for  any  reason,  this  patli  swerves  to  the  right  or  to 
the  left,  it  will  be  found  a  hard  thing  to  straighten  it  after- 
wards. The  process  called  thinking  consists  simply  in 
putting  things  or  ideas  together  in  certain  relations,  and 
if  they  are  not  properly  related  a  false  view  of  the  whole 
subject  is  given,  which  it  is  not  easy  to  change.  Ex- 
perience teaches  us  how  difficult  it  is  to  change  a  man's 
fixed  ideas,  judgments,  or  opinions,  that  is,  to  make  over 
his  mind.  Here  we  strike  the  psychological  fact  that  lies 
back  of  the  stress  which  is  so  deservedly  placed  upon  first 
impressions — they  are  apt  to  be  lasting,  no  matter  how 
partial  or  imperfect  they  may  be.  All  experienced  teach- 
ers know  how  hard  a  task  it  is  to  teach  a  subject  prop- 
erly to  a  pupil  who  has  already  been  taught  improperly. 
The  common  opinion  is  that  it  is  easier  to  take  the  pupil 
fresh,  at  the  beginning,  and  there  is  much  evidence  to 
support  that  opinion. 

The  relations  of  the  intellect  and  the  will,  or  of  knowl- 
edge and  choice,  have  already  come  before  us  in  a  former 
chapter.  However,  it  is  important  to  state  here 
Ideas  and  that  One  of  tlicse  relations  involves  the  practical 
*  ^  '  question  of  will-training.  Promptness  in  making 
the  choice,  and  firmness  in  the  pursuance  of  chosen  ends,  are 
greatly  promoted  by  a  clear  understanding  of  the  objects 
from  which  the  choice  is  to  be  made,  and  of  the  nature 


176 


THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 


and  relations  of  the  object  chosen.  It  is  just  as  absurd  to 
ask  a  man  to  choose  among  objects  of  which  he  is  igno- 
rant as  it  is  to  ask  him  to  bcHeve  a  proposition  that  he 
has  never  heard.  A  clear  perception  of  the  end  or  aim 
of  a  lesson,  (see  the  chapter  on  "  Attacking  the  Lesson,") 
contributes  greatly  to  the  ability  of  the  pupil  both  in 
making  the  attack  and  in  sustaining  it. 

Some  readers  may  think  that  enough  has  now  been  said, 
and  that  the  subject  should  be  dropped.  The  fact  is, 
however,  that  much  that  is  important  still  remains  to  be 
considered. 

First,    it   must  be  taken  into  account  that   the   word 

"  thoroughness  "  has  no  fixed  meaning,  but  is  a  relative 

term.     Thoroughness  at  one  time  and  place  is 

Thorough-  ,  ,  1  •  ,       1 

nessa  not  thoroughness  at  another  time  and  place. 

Relative  Thoroughness  in  one  person  is  not  thorough- 
Term,  b  r  t> 

ness  in  another  person,  and  thoroughness  in  the 
same  person  is  not  the  same  thing  at  different  times. 
The  text-books  used  in  schools  contain  a  very  small  part 
of  the  matter  that  is  found  in  the  great  works  written  on 
the  same  subjects.  Compare,  for  example,  the  school 
histories  of  the  United  States  with  Dr.  Winsor's  A^ar- 
rative  and  Critical  History  of  America,  or  the  school 
geographies  with  Reclus'  great  work  entitled  TJie 
Earth  and  its  InJiabitants.  Still  more,  even  such  mon- 
umental works  as  these  by  no  means  exhaust  the  subjects 
to  which  they  are  devoted.  Furthermore,  different  minds 
differ  in  respect  to  the  matter  that  the  book  actually 
presents — the  teacher's  grasp  is  less  strong  than  that  of 
the  author,  while  the  pupil's  grasp  is  still  weaker  than 
that  of  the  teacher.  The  growing  mind  learns  to  know 
familiar  things  better  than  it  knew  them  at  first,  as 
well  as  it  learns  to  know  new  things.     Thus  words  and 


THORO  UGH  NESS.  I  -j-j 

names  constantly  come  to  express  more  and  more  mean- 
ing. Our  early  ideas  may  be  likened  to  forms  or  vessels 
into  which  experience  is  continually  pouring  new  meaning 
or  new  thought.  The  pupil  in  the  eighth  grade  cannot 
have  Francis  Parkman's  conception  of  the  French  and 
Indian  War,  or  Carl  Ritter's  conception  of  the  Continent 
of  Europe,  no  matter  how  long  or  how  intensely  he  may 
dwell  upon  the  subject.  The  clear  and  precise  ideas  for 
which  Dr.  Faraday  so  justly  pleads  are  not  fixed  ideas  or 
quantitative  ideas.  Perhaps  not  one  man  in  a  million 
has  Faraday's  own  clear  and  precise  conceptions  of  the 
fundamental  facts  of  physics  and  chemistry.  Accordingly, 
the  teacher  in  the  school  constantly  faces  the  question. 
How  far  shall  clear  ideas  and  clear  thinking  be  insisted 
upon  ? 

The  matter  may  be  put  in  another  way.  Mental  ac- 
tion tends  to  fixity  and  permanence — tends  to  flow  in 
„  _       habitual  channels,  or,  as  one  may  say,  tends  to 

ing"the  groove  and  channel  the  mind.  Now  a  certain 
amount  of  such  grooving  or  channeling  is 
essential  to  mental  efficiency.  It  is  just  as  necessary  that 
mental  energy,  to  be  effective,  shall  be  concentrated  in 
particular  lines  or  at  particular  points  as  it  is  that  steam, 
to  be  effective,  shall  be  confined  in  a  steam  chest  and  cylin- 
der; diffusion  or  dissipation  of  force  is  just  as  fatal  in  the 
one  case  as  in  the  other.  Without  this  tendency  to  per- 
manence in  modes  of  mental  action,  education  would  be 
impossible,  and  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  acquired 
character.  At  the  same  time,  the  mind  maybe  over- 
grooved,  that  is,  the  grooves  may  become  so  deep  and 
so  narrow  that  the  man  is  practically  incapable  of  effect- 
ive action  outside  of  his  routine,  or,  as  the  saying  is,  out- 
side of  his  ruts.     Sound  education  oscillates  between  the 

Art  oj  Study. — 12 


1/8 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


two  extremes  of  too  slight  and  too  deep  grooving  of  the 
mind,  the  result  being  that  the  teacher  faces  the  very 
practical  question,  How  far  shall  this  work  of  grooving 
be  carried  ? 

Dr.  W.  T.  Harris  has  given  much  attention  to  this 
subject  the  last  few  years,  approaching  it,  however,  by 
a  somewhat  different  path.  It  is  easy,  he 
Harris  on  argucs,  for  any  special  formal  discipline,  when 
overgroov-  continued  too  long,  to  paralyze  or  arrest  the 
*°^'  growth  of  the  mind  at  any  stage.     The  overcul- 

tivation  of  the  verbal  memory  tends  to  arrest  the  growth 
of  critical  attention  and  reflection.  Memory  of  accessory 
details,  so  much  prized  in  the  school,  is  often  cultivated 
at  the  expense  of  an  insight  into  the  organizing  prin- 
ciple of  the  whole  and  the  causal  nexus  that  binds  the 
parts.  So,  too,  the  study  of  quantity,  if  carried  to  excess, 
may  warp  the  mind  into  a  habit  of  neglecting  quality  in 
its  observation  and  reflection.  He  contends  that  an  ex- 
cess of  parsing  and  grammatical  analysis  of  works  of  liter- 
ary art  tends  to  destroy  literary  appreciation  and  to  de- 
velop bad  habits  of  mind.  A  child,  overtrained  to  analyze 
and  classify  shades  of  color,  as  is  sometimes  done  in 
primary  schools  where  stress  is  laid  on  objective  teach- 
ing, might,  in  later  life,  visit  an  art  gallery  and  make  an 
inventory  of  colors  without  getting  even  a  glimpse  of  a 
painting  as  a  work  of  art.  Similarly,  an  excess  of  experi- 
ments in  teaching  science  may  render  the  pupils  incapable 
of  grasping  the  principle  involved.  Touching  mathemat- 
ics. Dr.    Harris  writes  as  follows  : 

"  The  law  of  apperception,  we  are  told,  proves  that  temporary 
methods  of  solving  problems  should  not  be  so  thoroughly  mastered 
as  to  be  used  involuntarily,  or  as  a  matter  of  unconscious  habit 
for  the   reason    that   a   higher   and  a    more    adequate    method  of 


THORO  UGH  NESS. 


179 


solution  will  then  be  found  more  difficult  to  acquire.  The  more  thor- 
oughly a  method  is  learned,  the  more  it  becomes  part  of  the  mind,  and 
the  greater  the  repugnance  of  the  mind  toward  a  new  method.  For 
this  reason,  parents  and  teachers  discourage  young  children  from  the 
practice  of  counting  on  the  fingers,  believing  that  it  will  cause  much 
trouble  later  to  root  out  this  vicious  habit,  and  replace  it  by  purely  men- 
tal processes.  Teachers  should  be  careful,  especially  with  precocious 
children,  not  to  continue  too  long  in  the  use  of  a  process  that  is  be- 
coming mechanical ;  for  it  is  already  growing  into  a  second  nature,  and 
becoming  a  part  of  the  unconscious  apperceptive  process  by  which 
the  mind  reacts  against  the  environment,  recognizes  its  presence,  and 
explains  it  to  itself.  The  child  that  has  been  overtrained  in  arithme- 
tic reacts  apperceptively  against  his  environment  chiefly  by  noticing 
its  numerical  relations — he  counts  and  adds  ;  his  other  apperceptive 
reactions  being  feeble,  he  neglects  qualities  and  causal  relations. 
Another  child,  who  has  been  drilled  in  recognizing  colors,  apperceives 
the  shades  of  color  to  the  neglect  of  all  else.  A  third  child,  exces- 
sively trained  in  form  studies  by  the  constant  use  of  geometric  solids 
and  much  practice  in  looking  for  the  fundamental  geometric  forms 
lying  at  the  basis  of  the  multifarious  objects  that  exist  in  the  world, 
will,  as  a  matter  of  course,  apperceive  geometric  forms,  ignoring  the 
other  phases  of  objects."^ 

The  subject  can  be  pursued  indefinitely,  but  one  or  two 
further  instances  will  answer  the  present  purpose. 

Lord  Karnes,  for  example,  advanced  the  proposition 
that  capacious  memory  and  sound  judgment  are  seldom 
Memory  found  In  Company. ^  His  argument  is  that 
andjudg-     memory  involves  the  slight  or  loose  relations 

meat.  r  •  1  1  -i      •      1  1 

of  ideas,  while  judgment  rests  upon  the  strong 
or  close  relations,  and  that  the  two  mental  habits  are  in- 
compatible. The  truth  turns,  no  doubt,  upon  the  extent 
to  which  the  individual  relies  upon  his  memory  or  his 
judgment.     Either  one  may  be  cultivated,  and  especially 

^  Report  of  the   Committee  of  Fifteen  on  Elementary   Education.     New 
York,  American  I?ook  Company,  1S95,  pp.  56,  57- 
'  Elements  of  Criticism.    New  York,  American  Book  Co.,  1S70,  p.  ^;^. 


l8o  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

the  memory,  at  the  cost  of  the  other,  but  there  is  no  neces- 
sary antagonism  between  the  two  mental  faculties. 

It  is  a  familiar  fact  that  precocious  development  in 
children  is  commonly  followed  by  arrested  development. 
Precocious  Inheritance  has  here  something  to  answer  for, 
Children,  ^yt;  something  is  no  doubt  due  to  the  early 
overgrooving  of  the  child's  mind.  Two  practical  ques- 
tions that  deeply  affect  the  teacher's  work  arise  at  this 
point,  and  will  be  briefly  considered.  How  long  shall  a 
pupil  be  kept  on  the  same  lesson  ?  How  long  on  the  same 
study  ? 

A  teacher,  we  will  suppose,  keeps  a  pupil  still  at  work  on 
a  lesson  or  study  to  which  he  has  already  devoted  much 
Keeping  time  for  the  reason  that  the  pupil  is  not  yet 
Children       thorough  in  his  knowledge.     This  may  be  per- 

Too  I/Ong  r  1  •      1 

onai,es-  fectly  right,  or  it  maybe  wholly  wrong.  If  the 
son.  pupil's  knowledge  is  really  defective,  when  meas- 

ured by  a  proper  standard,  he  should,  as  a  rule,  be  required 
to  dwell  upon  the  work  still  longer.  But  if  his  knowl- 
edge is,  comparatively,  as  perfect  as  he  is  likely  at  present 
to  make  it,  then  such  a  course  will  involve  a  waste  of  both 
time  and  energy.  Worse  even  than  this,  it  may  involve 
the  impairment  or  destruction  of  interest  in  the  lesson  or 
study,  or  even  in  the  school  itself.  When  a  pupil  has 
reached  a  certain  degree  of  excellence  in  a  lesson  or  sub- 
ject, the  increased  knowledge  gained  by  longer  "  pegging 
away  "  is  no  compensation  for  the  effort  that  it  costs  and 
the  risk  of  disgust  that  it  involves.  In  teaching  reading, 
for  example,  the  blunder  is  often  committed  of  keeping 
the  pupil  at  work  on  the  same  old  lesson,  when  he  is  weary 
of  the  monotony  and  is  craving  something  fresh,  be- 
cause, as  the  teacher  thinks,  he  can  still  learn  to  read  it 
better.     It  is  the  same  in  literature.     The  teacher  here 


THORO  UGH  NESS.  I  g  i 

not  unfrequently  tries  to  make  the  work  too  intensive,  and 
does  not  cover  enough  ground  either  to  give  breadth  of 
view  or  to  keep  up  the  interest  of  the  class.  It  must  be 
remembered  that  a  child  looks  upon  a  lesson  much  as  he 
looks  upon  a  picture  ;  he  tires  of  it,  and  demands  some- 
thing new.  It  is  very  true  that  to  overcome  this  love  of 
change,  or  to  hold  the  pupil  to  his  work,  is  the  great  prob- 
lem of  cultivating  the  attention  ;  but  the  teacher  must 
remember  that  this  can  be  done  only  in  a  measure  and 
by  degrees. 

It  is  obvious  enough  that  the  principle  involved  has  an 

important  application  in  the  matter  of  promotion.     It  is 

often    necessary    to    require    pupils    to    cfo    a 

Promotions.  ,     .  ^  \  .  r    ,  , 

second  time  over  a  certam  portion  of  the  work 
that  they  have  done.  The  good  of  the  pupil  and  the  tone 
of  the  school  both  demand  that  this  shall  be  done.  Still, 
pupils  should  by  no  means  be  refused  promotion  in  the 
flippant  spirit  that  is  characteristic  of  some  teachers  and 
superintendents.  It  sometimes  happens  that  the  pupil  in 
going  over  this  work  a  second  time  falls  below  the  record 
that  he  made  the  first  time.  At  the  close  of  a  term's  work 
in  algebra  I  once  thought  it  my  duty  to  deny  a  young 
man  promotion  with  his  class,  and  did  so.  It  so  happened 
that  he  made  the  same  journey  with  me  the  second  time, 
and  wliat  was  my  surprise  when  I  found  that  his  work  the 
second  term  was  inferior  to  what  it  had  been  the  first 
term.  He  had  actually  lost  ground  and  was  less  deserving 
of  promotion  now  than  he  had  been  three  months  before. 
This  experience  led  me  to  study  the  subject  with  more  care 
than  I  had  done  before,  and  to  be  more  careful  in  decid- 
ing upon  such  questions.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that  such  a 
case  as  this  is  exceptional,  but  still  it  teaches  a  lesson. 
Experienced  teachers  know  how  difficult  it  is  to  maintain 


l82  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

the  interest  of  pupils  in  their  work  when  they  have  been 
refused  promotion.  Many  actually  fall  out  of  school  al- 
together for  this  reason.  These  facts  do  not  constitute 
a  reason  why  all  pupils  should  be  promoted  when  the  set 
time  for  making  promotions  comes,  but  certainly  there  can 
be  no  good  reason  for  maintaining  a  regimen  in  the 
schools  that  involves  going  backward  rather  than  for- 
ward. The  question  of  promotion,  as  well  as  the  question 
of  daily  progress,  faces  both  ways — backward  and  for- 
ward. What  has  the  pupil  done  ?  What  is  he  capable 
of  doing?  These  are  the  two  questions  that  teacher  and 
superintendent  must  answer.  Moreover,  teachers  and 
superintendents  do  not  always  see  clearly  that  the  first 
of  these  questions  is  of  importance  mainly,  if  not  solely, 
because  it  bears  upon  the  second. 

What  has  now  been  said  relative  to  repeating  lessons 
and  refusing  promotion  in  no  way  invalidates  what  was 
said  in  the  earlier  part  of  this  chapter  about  the  value  of 
thoroughness.  The  key  thought  of  the  whole  discussion  is 
that  thoroughness  is  relative,  and  that  teachers  and  superin- 
tendents must  learn  to  take  all  the  facts  into  account. 

Perhaps  a  cautionary  remark  should  be  made  in  regard 
to  a  single  point.  It  must  not  be  understood  that  a  se- 
ries of  promotions  necessarily  involves  final 
Caution. °^  graduation.  Graduation  in  any  formal  sense, 
stands  for  the  completion  of  a  certain  amount 
of  work  in  a  reputable  manner,  which  again  is  a  relative 
expression.  It  means  this  or  it  means  nothing.  It  fol- 
lows, therefore,  that  if  a  pupil  has  not  done  this  work 
in  a  way  that  is  measurably  satisfactory  he  should  not 
be  given  a  diploma  certifying  that  he  has  done  so.  That 
would  both  lower  the  standard  of  the  school  and  be  im- 
moral  into    the  bargain.     There  may  be,  and  often  are, 


THOROUGHNESS.  1 83 

good  reasons  for  allowing  the  pupil  to  pass  along  in  a 
study  until  he  stands  upon  the  verge  of  graduation,  and 
then  declining  to  graduate  him.  As  a  matter  of  course,  the 
teacher  or  principal  should  cause  the  pupil  to  understand 
when  he  is  promoted  exactly  what  his  status  is  and  the 
causes  that  have  produced  it.  Naturally,  too,  the  pupil's 
familiar  friends  should  be  duly  informed  of  the  facts  in  the 
case.  It  is  true  enough  that  the  presence  of  a  pupil  who 
has  not  done  satisfactory  work  in  a  class  may  impede  the 
progress  of  the  class,  and  this  fact  is  to  be  taken  into  the 
account  in  settling  the  question  of  promotion.  The  prac- 
tical disposal  of  questions  of  promotion  and  graduation 
is  difficult,  calling  for  clear  discrimination,  sound  judg- 
ment, good  feeling,  and  no  little  moral  courage.  The 
more  rigid  the  classification   the  greater  the  difficulty. 

The  public  often  takes  a  hand  in  the  discussion  of  pro- 
motions in  schools.  Upon  the  whole  there  can  be  no 
PttbHc  In-  doubt  that  it  favors  a  liberal  policy.  At  the 
tereat  In         same  time,  men   are  found   in  almost  every 

Promotions.  .,  ,  en  1  1 

community  who  grurny  ask  such  questions  as 
these :  "  Why  should  pupils  be  sent  to  the  high  school 
before  they  have  mastered  the  studies  in  the  grades?" 
"  Why  should  a  boy  take  up  algebra  before  he  is  perfect 
in  arithmetic  ?  "  "  Why  should  he  begin  a  foreign  lan- 
guage before  he  has  first  mastered  his  own  language?" 
While  mistakes  are  frequently  made  at  these  points,  those 
who  ask  such  questions,  as  a  class,  imperfectly  understand 
the  matter.  They  do  not  see  that  the  pupils  whom  they 
have  in  mind  cannot,  save  in  a  very  limited  sense,  master 
their  elementary  studies,  or  that  such  a  thing  as  over- 
grooving  is  not  only  possible  but  easy.  Still  less  do 
they  understand  the  dependence  of  the  lower  studies 
upon    the    higher   ones,    as  of  arithmetic    upon  algebra. 


1 84 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


They  fail  to  comprehend  how  it  is  that,  in  a  certain  very 
important  sense,  imperfect  knowledge  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  progress  in  knowledge.  It  is  perfectly  true  that 
school  children  should  know  more  than  they  do  know, 
and  that  the  schools  should  be  brought  up  to  a  higher 
standard.  The  true  remedy,  however,  is  not  to  refuse 
pupils  promotion  more  frequently  than  at  present,  or  to 
compel  them  to  "drum"  longer  over  the  same  lessons, 
but  it  is  rather  to  teach  them  better  while  they  are  making 
their  daily  progress. 

In  a  practical  sense,  thoroughness  does  not  mean  that 

the  pupil  shall  seek  to  cover  the  whole  field,  or  even  that 

he  shall  cultivate  intensively  so   much   of  it 

Dr.  Bain  on  .11 

Narrowness  as  he  sceks  to  compass.  To  attempt  either  the 
^"^      .  one    or   the   other  may  be  fatal  to  the  very 

Breadth.  ^  .  ■' 

thoroughness  that  he  seeks.  Touching  the  art 
of  study.  Dr.  Alexander  Bain  lays  down  three  funda- 
mental propositions  which  may  be  stated  as  follows  : 

1.  In  the  early  stages  of  education,  instruction  must 
be  narrow. 

2.  Instruction  must  be  thorough. 

3.  Only  when  the  pupil  is  completely  at  home  in  the 
main  ideas  —  only  when  one  single  line  of  thought  has 
been  wrought  into  his  mind — should  the  teacher  begin  to 
be  discursive  and  widen  the  path. 

Dr.  Bain  explains  these  propositions  as  follows : 

"  Our  first  maxim  is — '  Select  a  Text-book-in-chief.'  The  meaning 
is  that,  when  a  large  subject  is  to  be  overtaken  by  book  study  alone, 
some  one  work  should  be  chosen  to  apply  to,  in  the  first  instance, 
which  work  should  be  conned  and  mastered  before  any  other  is  taken 
up.  There  being,  in  most  subjects,  a  variety  of  good  books,  the 
thorough  student  will  not  be  satisfied  in  the  long  run  without  con- 
sulting several,  and  perhaps  making  a  study  of  them  all ;  yet,  it  is  un- 
wise to  distract  the  attention  with  more  than  one,  while  the  elements 


THORO  UGH  NESS. 


185 


are  to  be  learnt.  In  Geometry,  the  pupil  beenns  upon  Euclid,  or 
some  other  compendium,  and  is  not  allowed  to  deviate  from  the 
single  line  of  his  author.  If  he  is  once  thoroughly  at  home  on  the 
main  ideas  and  the  leading  propositions  of  Geometry,  he  is  safe  in 
dipping  into  other  manuals,  in  comparing  the  differences  of  treat- 
ment, and  in  widening  his  knowledge  by  additional  theorems,  and  by 
various  modes  of  demonstration."^ 

If  we  remember  that  "  narrow,"  "  broad,"  and  "  thor- 
ougli  "  are  all  relative  terms,  having  no  quantitative  mean- 
Remarks  on  i'lg,  we  must  assent  to  all  these  propositions. 
Quotation.  Narrowness  must  precede  breadth,  and  super- 
ficiality, depth.  To  attempt  too  much  is  to  fail  in  every- 
thing. What  folly  it  is,  for  example,  in  teaching  history, 
to  accustom  the  pupil  to  compare,  interpret,  and  discuss 
facts  before  he  has  any  sufificient  supply  of  them  on  which 
to  exercise  his  reflective  faculties!  In  dealing  with  the 
history  of  a  country  or  nation,  the  first  thing  to  be  done, 
after  the  purely  story  period  is  passed,  is  to  fix  in  the 
pupil's  mind  firmly  the  main  points  —  an  outline,  a  frame- 
work, in  which  he  can  dispose  and  arrange  minor  facts 
and  details  as  he  acquires  them  ;  or,  to  change  the  figure, 
to  provide  his  mind  with  a  supply  of  hooks  and  pegs  on 
which  he  can  hang  up  in  proper  order  and  in  due  relation 
new  facts  and  ideas  as  he  masters  them.  To  quote  Dr. 
Bain  once  more  : 

"  History  is  preeminently  a  subject  for  method,  and,  therefore,  in- 
volves some  such  plan  as  is  here  recommended.  Every  narrative  read 
otherwise  than  for  mere  amusement,  as  we  read  a  novel,  should 
leave  in  the  mind — (i)  the  chronological  sequence  (more  or  less 
detailed);  and  (2)  the  causal  sequence,  that  is,  the  influences  at  work 
in  bringing  about  the  events.  These  are  best  gained  by  application  to 
a  single  work  in  the  first  place ;  other  works  being  resorted  to  in  due 
time."  " 

'^Practical  Essays.     New  York,  I).  Appleton  &  Co.,  1884,  pp.  215,  216. 
2  Ibid.,  p.  220. 


1 86  THE  ART  OF  STUD  Y. 

Parallel  Reading.  —  On  the  Correlation  of  Studies,  W.  T. 
Harris,  (Report  of  Committee  of  Fifteen  on  Elementary  Edu- 
cation^ New  York,  American  Book  Company,  1895.  The 
Education  of  the  Judgment,  Dr.  Faraday,  in  The  Culture  De- 
manded by  Modern  Life,  edited  by  E.  L.  Youmans.  New  York, 
D.  Appleton  &  Co,  1867. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  RELATIONS    OF   FEELING  TO  STUDY  AND  LEARNING. 

The  human  mind  is  one,  but  it  has  three  facul- 
ties, —  the  intellect,  the  feeling,  and  the  will.  What 
_  ,  ,,    .       we    mean     when    we    call    these  mental    fac- 

Intellect, 

Feeling,  ulties  is  that  the  mind  acts  or  manifests  it- 
^^  '     self  in   three  ways :  it  knows,   it   feels,  and  it 

wills.  The  same  faculties  are  also  called  knowledge,  sen- 
sibility, and  choice.  These  three  forms  of  mental  activity 
are  also  known  as  elements  or  phases  of  consciousness. 
It  will  be  seen  that  each  of  the  three  words  is  used  in 
a  double  sense  :  it  is  used  as  the  name  of  a  faculty  or 
process  and  also  as  the  name  of  a  product.  Thus,  will 
may  be  regarded  both  as  a  particular  power  or  kind  of 
mental  activity,  and  as  the  result  of  such  activity. 

In  preceding  chapters  much  has  been  said  of  the  rela- 
tions of   the  will  to  the   intellect,  that  is,  to  study  and 
learning,  and  reference  has  also  been  made  to 

Relations  of  ,        .  r       ^  r        1-  1  r 

the  Primary  the  relations  ot  the  feeling  to  the  same  factors. 
Faculties.  'Yhe  time  has  now  come  to  subject  the  second 
of  these  topics  to  formal  treatment.  The  fact  is,  how- 
ever, we  have  already  dealt  with  some  of  its  aspects,  for 

interests  are  but  forms  of  feeling.     We  shall  do  well  first 

187 


1 88  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

to  look  at  the  relations  of  the  three  primary  mental 
faculties  or  elements  of  consciousness  in  a  general  way. 
Dr.  James  Sully  gives  these  illustrations  : 

"  A  boy  sees  a  flower  growing  on  the  wall  above  his  head.  He 
raises  his  body  and  stretches  out  his  hand  to  pluck  it.  This  is  a 
Dr.  James  voluntary  act.  What  happens  here  ?  The  sight  of  the 
SuUy  flower  calls  up    to    his    mind    a    representation    of    the 

Quoted.  pleasure    of   smelling  it  or    carrying   it  in    his    button- 

hole. This  at  once  excites  a  desire  for  or  impulse  towards  the 
object.  The  desire  again  suggests  the  appropriate  action  which 
is  recognized  as  the  means  which  will  lead  to  the  desired  end.  In 
other  words  there  is  the  belief  (more  or  less  distinctly  present)  that 
the  action  is  fitted  to  secure  the  result  desired.  .  .  . 

"  A  girl  playing  in  the  garden  suddenly  feels  heavy  drops  of  rain 
and  hears  the  murmurs  of  thunder.  She  runs  into  the  bower.  Here 
the  action  is  similar ;  only  that  it  is  due  rather  to  an  impulse  away 
from  a  disagreeable  experience  than  to  an  impulse  towards  an  agree- 
able one.  We  say  that  the  force  at  work  here  is  not  a  desire  for 
something  pleasurable,  but  an  aversion  to  something  painful."^ 

These  examples  reveal  the  presence,  in  each  of  the  two 
cases,  of  the  three  elements  of  consciousness.  The  boy 
Remarks      knows  the  flower,  the  girl  the  drops  of  water 

on  These  . 

Examples,  and  the  thunder  ;  their  knowledge  awakens,  in 
the  mind  of  the  one  an  impulse  towards  the  object,  in  the 
mind  of  the  other  an  impulse  away  from  it.  The  result  of 
the  impulse  in  the  one  case  is  the  choice  to  pluck  the 
flower,  in  the  other  the  choice  to  go  into  the  bower,  fol- 
lowed in  either  case  by  the  appropriate  action.  The 
circle  is  completed  in  both  cases.  The  examples  are  per- 
fectly true  as  far  as  they  go,  but  they  do  not  bring  out 
clearly  the  one  important  fact  of  the  reaction  of  feeling 

1  Outlines  of  Psychology.     New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,    1884,  p.  574. 


FEELING,  STUDY.  AX  D  LEARNING.  189 

and  will  upon  knowing.  We  will  invent  illustrations  of 
our  own. 

I  am  sitting  at  my  desk  engaged  in  writing,  when  the 
door  of  the  room  begins  to  open  ;  my  attention  is  ar- 
New Exam- rested  and  my  curiosity  aroused;  I  turn  my 
pies.  eyes  towards  the  door  to  see  who  is  about   to 

enter,  and  discover,  by  his  dress,  that  it  is  a  messenger 
from  the  telegraph  office.  I  see  a  dispatch  in  his  hand, 
which  he  holds  out  to  me ;  my  curiosity  or  desire  is 
further  stimulated  ;  I  stretch  out  my  hand,  seize  the  dis- 
patch, tear  it  open  and  read  it ;  the  dispatch  informs  me  that 
a  business  venture  in  which  I  am  engaged  has  turned  out 
favorably,  or  that  a  friend  is  sick.  This  information  begets 
fresh  interest,  and  this  again  leads  on  to  new  choices, 
such  as  the  decision  to  send  a  return  dispatch  or  to  under- 
take a  journey,  until  the  whole  cycle  is  completed. 

A  child  playing  on  the  floor  gets  a  music  box  in  his 
hands  ;  his  curiosity  is  awakened  by  the  object  and  he  be- 
gins to  experiment  with  it,  turning  it  over  and  beating 
the  floor  with  it ;  he  strikes  by  accident  a  key  and  a  sound 
is  produced,  thus  enlarging  his  knowledge;  his  interest 
is  increased  and  he  strikes  again  ;  and  thus  his  knowledge, 
his  feeling,  and  his  will  go  on  acting  and  reacting  upon 
one  another  until  the  series  of  experiences  is  worked  out 
and  the  child  is  for  the  time  satisfied. 

There  is  perhaps  nothing  more  wonderful  in  the  opera- 
tions of  the  human  mind  than  the  action  and  interaction 
Ti-       1  ^  «  of  the  elements  of  consciousness.     In  the  last 

Knowledge 

and  Feel-      two  examples  the  three  faculties   are   all  pres- 
^'  ent    and    active — intellect,   feeling,  and    will; 

or  the  examples  present  to  our  view,  in  perfect  com- 
bination, the  three  elements  of  consciousness  —  knowledge, 
sensibility,  and  choice. 


190 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


The  central  thought  of  this  chapter  is  that  the  teacher 
must  cultivate  in   the  pupil  those  states  of  feeling  that' 
Direct  vari- harmonize  with  study  and  the  acquisition  of 
ation.  knowledge.     In  certain   conditions   the    three 

elements  of  consciousness  move  together,  upward  and 
downward,  on  a  sliding  scale.  The  more  one  knows  the 
more  he  feels,  and  the  more  energetic  is  his  will.  The 
direct  stimulation  to  activity  of  any  one  of  the  so-called 
faculties  is  the  direct  stimulation  of  the  other  two.  But 
this  is  true  only  so  long  as  the  stimulation  and  the  re- 
sulting activity  are  comparatively  moderate  in  their  meas- 
ure.    This  is  an  important  law  of  mental  action. 

In  the  second  place,  when  a  certain  stage  of  stimula- 
tion and  activity  has  been  reached,  the  three  elements  be- 
indirect  gi^^  to  vary  inversely  :  the  more  of  any  one  ele- 
variation.  ment,  the  less  of  either  of  the  other  two.  Ex- 
cluding the  will  for  the  present,  we  find  that  strong 
intellectual  activity  is  accompanied  by  weak  feeling, 
strong  feeling  by  weak  intellectual  activity.  In  a  sense,  the 
more  one  knows  the  less,  for  the  time,  he  feels,  and  the  more 
one  feels  the  less  he  knows.  There  are  apparent  exceptions, 
perhaps  real  ones,  but  such  is  the  rule  or  the  law.  Thus,  you 
do  not  feel  deeply  when  you  are  absorbed  in  a  mathematic- 
al problem  or  in  a  difificult  piece  of  translation  ;  neither 
do  you  think  clearly  and  strongly  when  you  are  moved  by 
excited  feelings,  no  matter  whether  pleasant  or  painful. 
Fresh  news  of  some  great  good  fortune  or  great  evil  fortune 
incapacitates  the  mind  for  its  best  intellectual  effort.  Cold 
indeed  is  the  student  who  can  apply  himself  to  his  studies 
with  vigor  the  very  hour  that  he  hears  of  his  father's 
death.  Wordsworth  thought  slightly  of  the  man  who 
could  botanize  on  his  mother's  grave :  it  is  the  place,  he 
thought,  for  emotion  rather  than  for  scientific  investiga- 


FEELING,  STUDY,  AND  LEARNING.  191 

tion.  The  cause  of  these  inverse  variations  of  men- 
tal forces  is,  perhaps,  that  the  mind  has  so  much  power 
to  expend,  and  that,  if  much  of  this  power  is  used  in  one 
way,  little  can  be  used  in  another  way.  But,  no  mat- 
ter what  the  explanation  is,  there  is  no  mistaking  either 
the  law  or  its  interpretation. 

There  are  still  other  facts  to  be  considered.  Age  is  a 
factor  in  the  problem.  A  child's  feelings  are  more  active 
Age  Train-  ^^-^^  ^  man's,  not  only  absolutely  but  rela- 
ing,  and  In-  tively,  in  the  same  way  that  his  logical  facul- 
^  °**'  ties  are  less  active.  Training  and  discipline 
also  enter  into  the  problem.  Persons  of  the  same  age 
differ  widely  in  the  coordination  of  the  primary  mental 
faculties.  The  savage  and  the  undeveloped  man  show 
much  of  the  spontaneity  and  impulse  that  mark  the 
child.  Nor  is  this  all :  inheritance  remains  to  be  con- 
sidered. Persons  of  equal  general  cultivation,  as  well 
as  of  the  same  age,  differ  sometimes  almost  as  widely 
as  children  differ  from  adults.  Some  persons  show  habitual 
self-control  from  an  early  age,  while  others  have  little 
self-control  when  far  advanced  in  life.  It  is  a  matter  of 
temperament.  In  fact  we  classify  men  with  respect  to 
the  relative  prominence  in  their  make-up  of  the  elements 
of  consciousness :  one  man  is  intellectual,  another  emo- 
tional, a  third  active  or  practical. 

So  it  is  not  strange  that  the  feelings  should  present  to 
the  educator  some  very  important  problems.  Perhaps 
Problems      the  most  important  is  the  proper  coordination, 

Presented  throup-h  habit,  of  the  primary'  faculties.  Con- 
by  Feeling  .  ^      , .       .  .  ^  , 

ventionalized  society  compels  men  to  set  re- 
straints upon  the  sensibility.  The  whole  subject  is  com- 
paratively new,  having  received  far  less  attention  than 
it  deserves,  but  it  lies  beyond  our  path.     The  main  facts 


192 


THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 


for  us  to  consider  are  that  the  feelings  of  children  are 
easily  excited,  that  they  have  little  control  over  them, 
and  that,  when  strongly  excited,  they  are  largely  in- 
capable of  intellectual  activity,  and  wholly  incapable  ot 
studying  and  learning  lessons. 

From  the  facts  that  have  been  set  forth  we  shall  now 
deduce  some  important  rules  of  teaching. 

1.  A  gentle  glow  or  wave  of  pleasant  feeling  should 
play  through  the  schoolroom,  and  over  the  mind  of  the 

individual  pupil  while  he  is  engaged  in  study. 
Feeling  to  Couragc,  hopcfulness,  appreciation,  should  mark 
be  Cttiti-       the  emotional  climate  rather  than   discourage- 

vated.  ,  .  T      •  •  11 

ment  or  despair.  It  is  quite  true  that  these 
factors,  or  any  one  of  them,  may  be  in  excess  of  what  is 
desirable.  Appreciation  may  be  carried  to  the  point  of 
teaching  the  pupil  false  ideas  concerning  himself  and  his 
relations  to  the  world.  He  may  be  transported  by  the 
teacher  into  a  fool's  paradise.  The  objections  to  this 
folly  are  both  intellectual  and  moral.  Pupils  should 
not  be  led  to  form  exaggerated  ideas  of  themselves 
and  their  attainments,  but  they  should  be  led  to  believe 
that  much  can  be  done  in  the  school,  and  that  they  can 
do  it. 

2.  Pupils  in  school   should  be  fortified   as  strongly  as 
possible  against  strong  excitement  of  the  feelings,  no  mat- 
ter whether  the  excitement  is  their  own  or  that 

Feeling  to  °^  another  into  which  they  enter  through  sym- 
be  Discour-  pathy.  The  wheels  of  the  intellect,  so  to  speak, 
^^^  '  will  not  revolve  freely  in  a  flood  of  turbulent 

emotion.  No  gusts  of  anger,  no  cyclones  of  passion, 
no  tempests  of  sympathetic  impulse,  should  vex  the  pupil 
or  disturb  the  atmosphere  of  the  school.  For  one  thing, 
such  disturbances  are  followed  by  serious  moral  results  — 


FEELING,  STUDY,  AND  LEARNING.  193 

they  make  character.  But  here  the  immediate  point  is 
that  they  kill  or  impair,  for  the  time,  the  intellectual  life 
of  the  pupil.  No  young  pupil  can  study  or  recite  when 
he  is  deeply  grieved  or  thoroughly  angry.  This  phase 
of  the  subject  Dr.  Carpenter  has  treated  in  an  admirable 
passage. 

"  Those  '  strong-minded '  teachers  who  object  to  these  modes  of 
'  making  things  pleasant,'  as  an  unworthy  and  undesirable  '  weak- 
Dr.  Car-  ness,'  are  ignorant  that,  in  this  stage  of  the  child-mind, 
penter  on  the  will  —  that  is,  the  power  of  self-cow\xo\  —  is  weak  ;  and 
"  Willful-  ti^at  the  primary  object  of  education  is  to  encourage  and 
strengthen,  not  to  repress,  that  power.  Great  mistakes 
are  often  made  by  parents  and  teachers,  who,  being  ignorant  of  this 
fundamental  fact  of  child-nature,  treat  as  ivillfulncss  \\\\z.\.  is  in  reality 
just  the  contrary  of  will-fullness ;  being  the  direct  result  of  the  want 
of  volitional  control  over  the  automatic  activity  of  the  brain.  To 
pnnish  a  child  for  the  want  of  obedience  which  it  has  not  the  power  to 
render,  is  to  inflict  an  injury  which  may  almost  be  said  to  be  irrepar- 
able. For  nothing  tends  so  much  to  prevent  the  healthful  develop- 
ment of  the  moral  sense  as  the  infliction  of  punishment  which  the 
child/?^/y/«7  be  unjust ;  and  nothing  retards  the  acquirement  of  the 
power  of  directing  the  intellectual  processes  so  much  as  the  emotional 
disturbance  which  the  feeling  of  injustice  provokes.  Hence  the  de- 
termination often  expressed  to  '  break  the  will '  of  an  obstinate  child 
by  punishment  is  almost  certain  to  strengthen  these  reactionary  in- 
fluences. Many  a  child  is  put  into  '  durance  vile  '  for  not  learning 
'  the  little  busy  bee '  who  simply  cannot  give  its  small  mind  to  the 
task,  whilst  disturbed  by  stern  commands  and  threats  of  yet  severer 
punishment  for  a  disobedience  it  cannot  help ;  when  a  suggestion 
kindly  and  skillfully  adapted  to  its  automatic  nature,  by  directing  the 
turbid  current  of  thought  and  feeling  into  a  smoother  channel,  and 
guiding  the  activity  which  it  does  not  attempt  to  oppose,  shall  bring 
about  the  desired  result,  to  the  surprise  alike  of  the  baffled  teacher, 
the  passionate  pupil,  and  the  perplexed  bystanders."  ^ 

'  Principles  of  Mental  Physiology.     New   York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1886, 
pp.  134,  135. 

A  rl  0/  Study. —  1 3 


194 


THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 


3.  The  emotional  adjustment  of  the  young  pupil  to  the 
teacher  should  receive  attention.     Whether  the 

]Smotlonal 

Adjustment  pupil  or  student  likes  the  teacher  or  not  is  al- 
^^  Jp^*^^-i'  ^^''^ys  an  important  question.  Young  men  and 
women  in  college  may  get  a  great  deal  of  good 
out  of  old  Professor  Crusty,  whom  they  hate,  even  pre- 
ferring him  to  young  Professor  Good-Nature,  whom  they 
like,  because  they  recognize  the  ability  of  the  former  and 
subdue  their  personal  feelings ;  but  young  children  are 
wholly  incapable  of  making  any  such  discrimination. 
Their  relation  to  their  teacher  is  determined  wholly  by 
their  feelings,  and  not  at  all  by  scientific  interest.  The 
result  is  that  they  get  little  or  no  good,  and  much  harm, 
from  a  teacher  whom  they  thoroughly  dislike,  no  matter 
if  the  teacher  be  an  admirable  person  or  even  a  good 
teacher  in  another  school.  Even  in  colleges  and  universi- 
ties this  emotional  factor  plays  no  small  part. 

Accordingly,  the  temper  of  a  teacher  and  his  power  of 
adaptation  to  pupils  are  among  the  things  to  be  con- 
sidered in  assigning  him  to  a  school,  or  even  in  his  em- 
ployment. This  is  particularly  the  case  in 
Make^uch  ^ower  grade  schools.  Then  it  is  one  of  the 
Adjust-  first  duties  of  the  teacher,  and  of  the  primary 
teacher  especially,  to  adjust  himself  to  his  schol- 
ars, winning  their  confidence,  respect,  and  love.  Once 
more,  when  a  teacher,  after  a  fair  trial,  has  failed  to  effect 
such  an  adjustment  between  himself  and  the  school,  the 
time  has  come  for  the  school  authorities  to  consider 
whether  he  should  not  be  transferred  to  another  school, 
or,  if  circumstances  require,  be  discontinued  altogether. 
Such  transference  or  discontinuance  may  involve  some 
hardship  to  the  teacher,  but  it  is  the  right  of  the  pupils. 
In  another  school  or  in  another  place  he  may  do  excel- 


FEELING,  STUDY,  AXD  LEARXfXG.  195 

lent  work,  but  not  in  this  school  or  place.  No  doubt  a 
word  of  caution  is  needed.  School  administration  and 
discipline  should  by  no  means  be  abandoned  to  the 
whims,  notions,  and  caprices  of  school  children ;  neither 
should  the  studies  be  determined  with  sole  reference 
to  their  so-called  interests.  Still,  their  real  feelings,  like 
their  real  interests,  must  be  respected  within  reasonable 
bounds.  No  man  can  estimate  the  harm  that  has  been 
done  to  the  minds  and  characters  of  children,  and  espe- 
cially of  sensitive  children,  through  association  with 
nurses,  tutors,  and  teachers  who  were  distasteful  or  re- 
pulsive to  them.  On  that  point,  biography,  and  still 
more  autobiography,  tells  its  own  story. 

Hope  and  fear  sometimes  lead  to  the  same  result. 
They  may  strengthen  one  man  and  weaken  another. 
Effects  of  '^^^^  vc\7i.\\  who  is  energetic  by  nature  says, 
Hope  and  "  The  outlook  is  encouraging,  we  must  make 
the  most  of  it  "  ;  or,  "  It  is  discouraging,  we 
must  exert  ourselves  to  the  utmost."  The  feeble  man 
says,  "  The  prospect  is  hopeful,  everything  will  come  out 
right  anyway  ;  "  or,  "  Nothing  can  be  done,  and  it  is  useless 
to  try."  The  effect  of  hope  and  fear  upon  men  depends 
upon  the  native  tone,  or  the  character,  of  the  man.  Some 
men  are  never  so  strong  as  when  in  the  presence  of  danger, 
never  so  weak  as  when  in  the  presence  of  security.  The 
one  situation  nerves  them  to  do  their  utmost ;  the  other  lulls 
them  to  sleep.  Others  are  strongest  when  animated  by 
hope,  weakest  when  depressed  by  fear.  Such  are  some  of 
the  effects  upon  different  minds  of  optimistic  and  pessimis- 
tic tones  of  thought  and  feeling. 

It  is  easy  to  see  how  what  has  just  been  said  applies  to 
children.  They  are  rarely  strengthened  by  any  form  of 
fear,    and    young   children    never   are.     They  require   a 


1 96  THE  A R  T  OF  STUD  V. 

warmer  emotional  climate.  They  need  encouragement 
and  hopefulness.  And  yet  this  is  one  of  the  places  where 
it  is  important  for  the  teacher  to  remember  Solon's  maxim, 
"  Nothing  in  excess." 

Parallel  Reading.  —  T/ie  Story  of  the  Mind,  James  Mark 
Baldwin.  New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  1898.  Outlines  of 
Psychology,  Harold  Hoffding.  London,  The  Macmillan  Co., 
1892.  Chap.  IV.  ("  Classification  of  the  Psychological  Ele- 
ments ").  /'/■/w^r^T'i'vr/w/i?,^^,  George  Trumbull  Ladd.  New 
York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1884.  Studies  in  Education, 
B.  A.  Hinsdale.  Chicago,  Werner  School  Book  Company, 
1896.  Chap.  in.  ("  The  Laws  of  Mental  Congruence  and 
Energy  Applied  to  Some  Pedagogical  Problems  "). 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

METHODS  OF  LEARNING. 

No  word  employed  in  educational  literature  or  discus- 
sion, or  at  least  no  word  relating  to  teaching,  has  been 
Abuse  of  more  abused  than  the  word  "  method."  This 
the  Word      abuse  is  seen  in  the  irrational  emphasis  that  is 

**  Method." 

placed  upon  it,  and  the  absurdity  of  its  applica- 
tions. Teachers  borrowed  the  word  from  philosophy  and, 
having  done  so,  proceeded  to  degrade  it.  They  have  not 
hesitated,  for  example,  to  apply  it  to  the  commonest  ex- 
pedients and  devices,  and  even  tricks,  of  the  schoolroom. 
We  have  the  "letter"  method,  the  '*  word"  method,  and 
the  "  sentence  "  method  of  teaching  reading;  the  "  oral  " 
method  and  the  "written"  method  of  teaching  spelling; 
the  "  oral"  method  and  the  "  book  "  method  of  teaching 
elementary  science,  and  I  know  not  how  much  more  be- 
sides. In  the  literature  of  teaching,  particularly  the  minor 
literature,  the  word  is  repeated  ad  nauseam,  and,  if  possi- 
ble, still  more  frequently  in  lectures  and  class  instruction. 
And  then  the  stress  that  the  advocates  of  different  methods 
place  on  their  little  devices !  As  though  men  were  never 
taught  anything,  or  could  be  taught  anything,  except  ac- 
cording to  their  particular  prescriptions  !     It  is  no  wonder 

that  many  sensible  teachers,  weary  of  "  methods,"  have 

197 


198 


THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  Y. 


turned  their  faces  away  from  method,  as  they  hope,  for- 
ever. 

But  the  subject  cannot  be  gotten  rid  of  in  this  easy 
fashion.  Any  man  of  sense  will  see  this  the  moment  he 
Method  De-  takes  one  real  look  into  the  heart  of  the  matter, 
fined  and      ]y[   Compayr^  defines  method  in  general  as  "  the 

Vindicated.  ,  ,  ^    "^  ,  .... 

order  that  we  voluntarily  mtroduce  mto  our 
thoughts,  our  acts,  and  our  undertakings."  "  To  act  me- 
thodically," he  says,  "  is  the  contrary  of  acting  thoughtless- 
ly, inconsiderately,  without  continuity,  and  without  plan. 
Port  Royal  justly  defined  method  as  the  'art  of  rightly  ar- 
ranging a  series  of  several  thoughts.'  "  And  again  :  "  In  a 
more  precise  and  particular  sense,  method  designates  a 
whole  body  of  rational  processes,  of  rules,  or  means  which 
are  practiced  and  followed  in  the  accomplishment  of  any 
undertaking."  ^  This  brief  account  of  the  matter  will 
show  sufificiently  that  method  is  indispensable,  and 
that  it  relates  to  the  matter  of  our  thoughts  and  their  ex- 
pression rather  than  to  the  dexterities,  physical  or  mental, 
of  the  daily  life.  Perhaps  it  is  impossible,  so  strong  is 
the  power  of  habit,  to  rescue  the  Avord  wholly  from  the 
hands  of  those  who  are  degrading  it,  or  to  bring  it  back 


1  Lectures  on  Pedagogy,  Theoretical  and  Practical.  Translated  by  W.  H. 
Payne.  Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  1891,  pp.  265,  266.  A  French  writer, 
M.  Marion,  quoted  by  Compayre,  thus  states  the  three  great  advantages  of 
the  man  who  proceeds  rationally  in  every  kind  of  practical  work  over  him 
who  lives  on  e.xpedients.  "  Starting  with  a  fixed  purpose,  he  runs  less  risk 
of  losing  sight  of  it  and  of  missing  his  way.  Having  reflected  on  the 
means  at  his  command,  he  has  more  chances  of  omitting  none  of  them, 
and  of  always  choosing  the  best.  Finally,  sure  both  of  the  end  in  view, 
and  of  the-  means  of  attaining  it,  it  depends  only  on  himself  to  reach  it  as 
soon  as  possible.  '  A  lame  man  on  a  straight  road,'  said  Bacon,  '  reaches 
his  destination  sooner  than  a  courier  who  misses  his  way.' " 


METHODS  OF  LEARXIXG. 


199 


to  its  pristine  meaning ;  but  it  is  possible  to  do  something 
in  this  direction.  In  this  chapter  we  shall  hold  strictly 
to  the  original  and  proper  meaning  of  the  term. 

It  is  perfectly  clear  that  methods  of  teaching  depend 
upon  methods  of  learning,  or  of  acquiring  knowledge,  and 
Methods  of  that  the  teacher's  function  is  to  help  the  pupil 
and^of*^^  to  learn.  Furthermore,  the  art  of  study  must 
i,earning.  recognizc  also  the  methods  of  learning,  or  of 
acquirement,  because  study  is  only  a  means  of  learning. 
Pupils  do  not  study  simply  for  the  sake  of  studying,  but 
for  the  sake  of  gaining  knowledge  and  discipline.  Accord- 
ingly, it  becomes  necessary  for  us  to  give  an  account  of 
the  methods  by  which  we  learn  or  gain  knowledge.  This 
account  will  be  as  brief  as  is  consistent  with  clearness. 

The  first  things  that  a  child  learns,  or  that  he  knows, 
are  the  sense-objects  right  about  him  in  the  world.  These 
Perception,  objects  impress  his  senses,  or  they  produce  sen- 
sations in  the  appropriate  organ — touch,  sight, 
hearing,  taste,  or  smell  ;  and  these  sensations  the  mind 
changes  into  mental  pictures  called  perceptions,  or  they 
are  ideated,  as  the  text-books  say.  It  is  not  at  all 
necessary  for  our  purpose  to  give  a  minute  account  of  the 
way  in  which  all  this  is  done,  but  one  or  two  facts  should 
be  strongly  grasped. 

The  child  observes  sense-objects,  receives  impressions, 
and  these  impressions  or  sensations  are  elaborated  into 
perceptive  ideas.  These  ideas  are  mental  j^ictures  of 
single,  concrete,  unrelated,  things. 

Thus  the  child  learns  to  know  his  toe,  his  thumb,  his 
hand  ;  his  mother  or  nurse  ;  his  rattle,  his  spoon,  and  many 
rirst-Hand  othcr  things  that  go  to  make  up  his  environ- 
Knowiedge.  lyicnt.  Such  are  the  humble  beginnings  of  all 
our  knowledge.     This  knowledge  does  not  come  through 


200  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

teaching  or  words.  The  child  learns  at  first  without 
other  help  than  is  furnished  when  those  who  minister  to 
him  put  sensible  objects  before  him  in  the  manner  that 
he  can  best  understand.  His  only  lessons  are  object 
lessons.  This  knowledge  is  slow,  but  it  is  sure;  it  is 
first-hand,  original  knowledge.  The  child  is  not  dependent 
upon  another  for  it,  but  gets  it  through  the  active  ex- 
ercise  of  his  own  faculties.  It  originates  in  the  contacts 
between  his  own  mind  and  the  surrounding  world,  and  is 
real  knowledge  in  the  most  vital  sense  of  that  term.  This, 
no  doubt,  is  a  sufificient  account  of  simple  sense-percep- 
tion. It  will  be  seen  that  at  first  the  child  makes  his  own 
knowledge  with  little  help. 

The  process  of  perception  does  not  go  very  far  before 
it  is  strongly  reenforced  by  another  process  that  is  called 
Appercep-  apperception.  This  word  is  composed  of  ad 
tion.  meaning  "  to,"  and  perciperc,  meaning  **  to  see  " 

or  "perceive,"  and  it  expresses  the  well-known  fact  that 
new  things  are  grasped  with  thehelpof  old  things,  or  new 
ideas  are  acquired  by  the  way  of  old  ideas.  Thus,  a  child 
who  has  formed  an  idea  of  a  familiar  object,  say  a  cat,  is 
brought  into  contact  with  an  unfamiliar  object,  say  a  dog. 
Immediately  his  facultfes  set  to  work  to  understand  this 
new  object,  bringing  it  into  relation  with  his  idea  of  the 
old  object,  and  never  really  leaving  it  until  he  has  satis- 
fied himself  that  the  two  are  alike  or  unlike  ;  or,  in  other 
words,  that  they  belong,  or  do  not  belong,  to  the  same 
class.  If  the  same  idea  or  mental  picture,  somewhat 
changed,  will  not  fit  both  objects,  he  must  begin  anew 
and  form  a  new  and  independent  idea  of  the  new  object. 
Interpretation  and  classification  are  thus  both  involved 
in  apperception.  Accordingly,  our  ideas  once  formed 
are  in  no  sense  dead,   mechanical    things,  heaped  up  in 


METHODS  OF  LEAR.\7\G.  201 

the  mind,  but  living  powers  that  help  us  mightily  in 
getting  new  ideas.  Once  an  idea  is  brought  into  contact 
with  new  facts,  things,  or  objects,  it  tends  to  promote  the 
formation  of  ideas  of  these  also. 

Two  or  three  further  explanations  should  be  offered. 

A  group  of  ideas  through  which  the  mind  apperceives 
or  interprets  new  experiences  is  called  an  apperceptive 
center  or  an  apperceiving  mass. 

In  the  process  of  apperception  new  facts  or  objects 
often  become  warped  or  distorted,  that  is,  they  are  put 
„  ,       ,       in    the    same    classes  as    old    facts  or  objects, 

Value  of  ■'  ' 

Appercep-  differences  being  for  the  time  being  over- 
looked. The  child  who  sees  flakes  of  snow  for 
the  first  tim.e  may  call  them  butterflies,  if  he  has  already 
formed  that  idea ;  or,  under  similar  conditions,  he  may 
call  a  snake  a  tail,  or  stalks  of  grass  trees.  Better  ideas 
come  with  fatter  experience  and  the  frequent  correction 
of  error.  The  more  nearly  the  new  facts  or  objects  are 
like  the  ideas  making  up  the  apperceiving  mass,  the  nar- 
rower is  the  margin  for  error.  But  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  apperceptipn  is  the  source  of  many  temporary  or 
even  permanent  errors,  it  still  accelerates  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge  to  a  prodigious  degree.  Without  this 
power  of  the  mind  to  assimilate  one  thing  with  another, 
we  could  never  know  very  many  things;  while  what  little 
we  did  know  would  consist  wholly  of  single  and  isolated 
ideas.  Of  things  in  classes  or  by  classes  we  could  know 
nothing  whatever. 

A  still  more  important  fact  has  been  implied,  but  it 
remains  to  be  fully  stated.  This  is  the  fact  that  apper- 
oenerai  ccption  brings  into  the  mind,  or  causes  to 
Ideas.  emerge    in    the    mind,  a   new    class    of   ideas. 

These  are  concepts,  sometimes  called   general   ideas,  be- 


202  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

cause  they  fit  all  the  objects  that  make  up  the  particular 
class.  They  are  best  understood  when  placed  in  contrast 
with  percepts,  which  are  ideas  of  simple,  concrete  things. 
There  is  some  controversy  about  the  origin  of  con- 
cepts. It  answers  our  purposes,  however,  to  know  that 
they  originate  at  this  early  stage  of  mind  development, 
and  that  they  are  general  in  their  nature.  The  meaning 
of  it  all  is  that  the  child  who  has  reached  this  stage  knows 
not  only  a  cat,  a  spoon,  a  man,  etc.,  but  cat,  spoon, 
man,  as  classes  or  species.  Language  marks  the  differ- 
ence between  the  two  classes  of  ideas  by  assigning  to  per- 
cepts proper  nouns  or  their  equivalents,  but  to  concepts 
common  nouns.  Just  as  soon  as  a  child  uses  intelligently 
the  plural  number  —  just  as  soon  as  he  knows  the  difTer- 
ence  between  a  man  and  men  —  he  has  passed  from  the 
stage  of  single  ideas  to  the  stage  of  general  ideas ;  or 
from  perceptive  to  conceptive  knowledge. 

All,  or  nearly  all,  the  intellectual  processes  are  involved 
by  implication  in  the  formation  of  clear  percepts  and 
c  m  reiien-  concepts.  Observation,  or  the  examination  of 
sivenessof  objects  ;  analysis,  or  the  separation  of  a  whole 
creep  ion.  Jj^|.q  j|-g  p^rts ;  synthesis,  or  the  combination  of 
parts  into  a  whole  ;  memory,  or  the  recalling  of  things  once 
known  ;  imagination,  or  the  selection  and  combination  of 
disconnected  elements ;  comparison,  or  the  discovery  of 
likeness  and  unlikeness ;  judgment,  or  inference, — all  are 
here.  Some  of  them,  however,  are  present  in  a  very 
rudimentary  form.  It  is  not  until  a  later  stage  of  mental 
development  that  these  elements  fully  declare  them- 
selves. 

We  shall  now  proceed  to  give  a  fuller  examination 
of  the  processes  of  comparison  and  judgment,  two  very 
important  steps  in  the  attainment  of  knowledge. 


METHODS  OF  LEARNING.  203 

In  another  chapter,  much  emphasis  is  laid  upon  the 
value  of  clear  and  precise  ideas ;  it  is  there  shown  that 
Comparison  sound  judgment  and  correct  thinking  are 
and  judg-  strictly  dependent  upon  such  ideas.  We  must 
*"***  ■  now  look  into  the  matter  a  little  more  closely. 

A  single  judgment  is  a  comparison  of  two  things  or 
two  ideas,  or  of  one  thing  and  one  idea.  When  I  lay  a 
yardstick  upon  a  piece  of  carpet  to  measure  it,  I  compare 
things ;  when  I  apply  to  a  certain  path  that  I  remember 
a  measure  that  I  carry  in  my  mind,  or  measure  the  path 
mentally,  I  compare  ideas ;  when  I  measure  the  path 
that  is  before  me  with  a  mental  standard,  I  compare  a 
thing  and  an  idea.  This  tree  is  taller  than  that  one  ; 
Elephants  are  sagacious  beasts;  This  horse  is  an  animal, 
are  other  examples.  In  respect  to  ideas,  percept  may  be 
compared  with  percept,  as  "  The  river  is  a  mile  wide  ;  "  con- 
cept with  concept,  as  "  The  dog  is  the  companion  of  man  ;  " 
percept  with  concept,  as"  This  specimen  is  a  star  fish." 

But  all  judgments  are  not  affirmative  judgments  ;  some 

are  negative.       Every   judgment    contains    two    parts — 

the    two    things   that     are   compared ;     while 

Affirmative  .      ,  ^  ,     .  ,       .  ,, 

andNeg-       a  judgment    expressed    in    words    is    called    a 

ativejudg-    proposition,  which   also  consists   of  two  parts. 

ments.  '        '  '^ 

One  of  these  two  parts,  whether  of  the  judg- 
ment or  of  the  proposition,  is  called  the  subject,  or  that 
of  which  something  is  said  ;  the  other  the  predicate,  or 
that  which  is  said  of  the  subject  ;  and  these  two  parts 
are  bound  or  coupled  together  by  a  copula,  which  is  com- 
monly some  form  of  the  verb  "  to  be."  In  thought,  all 
propositions  can  be  reduced  to  one  of  two  forms :  A  is  B,' 
or  A  is  not  B.  Properly  speaking  the  judgment  is  the 
thought  or  soul  that  resides  in  the  proposition,  while 
the  proposition  is  the  body  of  this  soul. 


204 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


Judgments  are  of  two  kinds,  primary  and  secondary. 

They  may  also  be   called  immediate  and  mediate,  direct 

and    indirect.     In  primary  judgment  the  mind 

Primary  .  i     ,       i  i-  11 

and  Second-  pcrceives   and  declares  directly  the   agreement 
aryjudg-      qj.  disagreement  of  the    two  things  compared. 

"  This  tree  is  green,"  "  This  cloth  is  not  white," 
are  such  judgments.  In  indirect  judgment  the  mind 
circuitously  discovers  the  agreement  or  the  disagreement 
of  two  objects  by  comparing  each  of  them  with  a  third 
object,  as  will  now  be  explained. 

Thinking  proper  is  inferring,  which  means  the  derivation 
of  a  new  judgment  from  old  ones,  or  the  carrying  into  a 

new  judgment  of  what  was  contained  in  pre- 
inductive  '  vious  ones.  Judgments  reached  by  the  way 
a*^<i  of  other    judgments    are     the    secondary    or 

Deductive.  ....  •  1        1  <-r-i 

mediate  judgments  mentioned  above.  Ihe 
derivation  of  such  judgments  is  the  province  of  proper 
thinking.  Furthermore,  thinking,  or  inference,  is  of  two 
kinds,  inductive  and  deductive,  which  will  now  be  ex- 
plained. Moreover,  while  this  is  being  done  we  shall  see 
more  clearly  what  is  the  real  nature  of  thinking.  Still 
it  is  quite  impossible  and  unnecessary  to  go  into  the  nice- 
ties of  the  subject. 

The  nature  of  the  two  methods  of  thinking,  or  the  two 
kinds  of  inference,  and  their  relations  to  each  other,  can 
The  be  seen  at  once  on  examining  a  common   syl- 

Syiiogism.    logism,  which  is  the  perfect  type  of  deduction. 
We  will  take  the  following  for  an  example : 

1.  Iron  pokers  when  heated  to  a  certain  degree  become  red  hot ; 

2.  This  tool  is  an  iron  poker : 

3.  Therefore  this  tool  when  so  heated  will  become  red  hot. 

The  first  two  propositions  are  called  the  premises,  the 
third  one  the  conclusion,  of  the  argument.     Now  no  man 


METHODS  OF  LEARNING.  205 

who  accepts  these  premises  will  think  of  denying  the 
third  proposition.  This  is  not  at  all  because  he  has  ex- 
amined, or  proposes  to  examine  this  tool,  when  heated  ; 
the  third  proposition  is  a  conclusion  that  follows  or  is  in- 
ferred irresistibly  from  the  other  two.  It  is  a  secondary 
or  thought-out  judgment  ;  that  is,  the  tool  is  compared 
with  red  hot  indirectly  through  the  thing  called  iron. 
We  may  represent  the  process  in  symbols  thus : 

All  B  is  A, 
All  C  is  B, 
All  C  is  A. 

C  and  A  are  compared  by  means  of  B.  Deduction,  it 
will  be  seen,  is  an  inference  from  the  general  to  the  par- 
ticular. But  the  truth  of  the  conclusion  depends  upon 
the  truth  of  the  premises ;  what  they  are  worth  the  con- 
clusion is  worth  ;  no  more  and  no  less.  But  what  is  the 
origin  of  these  premises.  How  do  we  know  that  they  are 
true  ?  To  be  definite,  how  do  we  know  that  all  iron 
pokers  when  heated  to  the  prescribed  degree  become  red 
hot  ?  To  answer  this  question  we  must  consider  the 
other  method  of  thought;  that  is,  induction.^ 

I  have  observed  that  all  the  pokers  which  I  have  seen 
heated  to  a  certain  degree  have  become  red  hot ; 
Induction,  lience  I  infer  that  whenever  this  one  is  so 
heated  it  will  become   red  hot.     Again,  I  have  observed 


^  "  The  word  '  inference,'  "  says  Mr.  Fowler,  "  is  employed  in  no  less  than 
three  different  senses.  It  is  sometimes  used  to  express  the  conclusion  in 
conjunction  with  the  premise  or  premises  from  which  it  is  derived,  as  when 
we  speak  of  a  syllogism  or  an  induction  as  an  inference ;  sometimes  it  is 
used  to  express  the  conclusion  alone  ;  sometimes  the  process  by  which  the 
conclusioi:  is  derived  from  the  premises,  as  when  we  speak  of  induction  01 
deduction  as  inferences,  or  inferential  processes." — The  Elements  of  Deduct- 
ive Lo^c.  Oxford,  The  Clarendon  Press,  1S71,  p.  65, 


2o6  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

the  same  thing  of  numerous  other  pieces  of  iron ;  hence 
I  infer  that  all  pieces  of  iron  so  heated  become  red  hot. 
Furthermore,  people  who  have  had  experience  with 
heated  iron  tell  me  the  same  thing.  Their  experience 
confirms  my  experience.  Accordingly,  I  am  so  very  pos- 
itive that  this  proposition  or  reasoned  judgment  is  true 
that  I  call  it  a  general  fact  or  a  law  of  nature,  unless,  in- 
deed, some  new  cause  shall  come  into  play  that  will 
prevent  the  poker  becoming  red  hot. 

But  why  am  I  at  liberty  to  infer  from  the  few  instances 
in  which  I  have   seen  this  poker  become  red  hot  that  it 

will  always    do    so    under    the    same   circum- 
i^ducS.^"  stances  ?     Or  why  may  I  conclude  that  what  I 

have  observed  of  several  pieces  of  iron  is  true 
of  the  pieces  which  I  have  not  observed  ?  This  question 
lies  aside  from  our  path,  and  it  suffices  to  say  that  my 
right  to  make  the  inference  depends  upon  the  uniformity 
of  nature;  that  is,  the  law  that  under  the  same  circum- 
stances the  same  cause  produces  the  same  effects.  More- 
over, every  valid  induction  involves  two  steps  or  stages. 
One  is  the  observation  of  particular  objects  or  facts;  the 
other  the  inference  from  these  particular  facts  of  a  general 
truth  or  proposition,  which  may  be  variously  called  a  defini- 
tion,  a  rule,  a  principle,  a  general  truth,  or  a  law.  Induction, 
then,  is  an  inference  from  particulars  to  generals  or  univer- 
sal, as  deduction  is  an  inference  from  generals  or  universals 
to  particulars.  In  other  words,  induction  leads  to  new  gen- 
eral truths;  deduction,  through  the  combination  of  two 
propositions,  "develops  a  third  which  they  contain  between 
them.  Induction  leaves  off  where  deduction  begins,  and  the 
two  together  make  up  the  one  complete  method  of  thought. 
But  what  about  the  second  premise  of  the  syllogism  ? 
This,  too,  happens  to  be  a  mediate  proposition  or  judg- 


A_ 


METHODS  OF  LEARNING. 


207 


ment,  or  one  reached  by  a  previous  deduction.  That  i.>i, 
ori  In  of  ^  have  learned  (i)  by  induction  that  a  body 
the  Second  having  such  and  such  properties  is  iron  ;  (2)  by 
prem  se.  imrnediate  observation  that  the  body  before  me 
has  these  properties ;  and  (3)  conclude,  or  infer,  accord- 
ingly, that  it  is  iron. 

Deductive    inferences    assume    many  different    forms, 
some  of  them  quite   puzzling  ;  but  it  is   not  at  all   neces- 
sary that  we  should  consider  these  forms  in  or- 

Abfldgrment         •' 

of  Deductive  der  that  we  may  understand  the   nature  of   de- 

Arguments.  Juctive  thinking.  It  may,  however,  be  said 
Examples.  *=  -^  '  '      . 

that  such  arguments  are  not  always,  or  indeed 
generally,  stated  at  full  length,  but  if  they  are  legitimate 
arguments  they  may  be  so  stated.  Take  the  reply  that 
Jesus  made  to  his  tempters  when  they  demanded  that  he 
should  show  them  a  sign  from  heaven.  "  He  answered 
and  said  unto  them.  When  it  is  evening,  ye  say.  It  will  be 
fair  weather,  for  the  sky  is  red.  And  in  the  morning,  It 
will  be  foul  weather  to-day,  for  the  sky  is  red  and  lower- 
ing." This  brief  passage  can  be  readily  expanded  into 
two  syllogisms  by  supplying  the  omitted  major  premises. 
First  syllogism  : — 

1 .  A  red  sky  at  evening  betokens  fair  weather ; 

2.  The  sky  is  red  this  evening: 

3.  Therefore  to-morrow  will  be  a  fair  day. 

Second  syllogism : — 

1.  A  red  and  lowering  sky  in  the  morning  points  to  a  foul  day; 

2.  It  is  red  and  lowering  this  morning : 

3.  Therefore  the  day  will  be  foul. 

The  major  premise  thus  supplied  in  either  case  depends 
upon  observation  and  inference.  It  is  an  induction.  It 
sums  up  the  experience  of  men  under  the  existing  con- 
ditions.    The  minor  premise  in  cither  case  is  the  result  of 


2o8  THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  Y. 

an  immediate  act  of  observation.  It  is  an  original  prop- 
osition. The  conclusions  are  valid  within  the  limits  of 
the  premises.  Often,  however,  the  minor  premise  is  also 
an  induction. 

It  is  accordingly  clear  that  induction  is  a  method  of 
discovery  ;  a  method  by  which  new  general  truths  are 
_.  .  .,  established.  That  is,  we  take  the  facts  that 
Method  of     observation  and  experiment  furnish,  and  induct- 

scovery.  j^^jy.  jj^fg,-  fj-om  them  general  conclusions.  In 
this  way  the  laws  of  nature,  and  many  other  laws,  are 
established.  Induction  stores  up  the  experience  of  men 
in  general  propositions,  rules,  maxims,  principles,  or  laws 
where  it   can  be  made  serviceable. 

It  is  quite  as  plain,  on  the  other  hand,  that  it  is  de- 
duction which  reduces  these  truths  so  stored  up  to 
practice.  For  illustration,  we  may  refer  to  the  phy- 
sician in  the  sick  room,  the  sanitary  engineer,  the  mer- 
chant, the  general  in  the  field,  the  teacher  in 
Method  of  ^^^  sclioolroom,  the  man  of  practice  wherever 
Appiica-  you  find  him.  The  process  by  which  the  phy- 
sician discovers  a  disease  from  which  a  patient 
is  suffering,  or  makes  a  diagnosis  of  it  as  the  professional 
saying  is,  is  simply  this  :  He  has  learned  from  his  own  ex- 
perience and  the  experience  of  others  that  a  certain  group 
of  symptoms  means  consumption,  a  second  group  typhoid 
fever,  etc.  ;  he  discovers  by  an  examination  of  his  patient 
that  one  of  these  groups  of  symptoms  is  present  in  whole 
or  part ;  and  so  he  infers  that  the  trouble  is  the  disease 
that  produces  this  group  of  symptoms.  The  process 
may   be  thus  exhibited  : 

1.  Sucii  and  such  symptoms  mean  typhoid  fever; 

2.  This  patient  has  these  symptoms  : 

3.  Therefore  this  patient  has  typhoid  fever. 


METHODS  OF  LEARXIXG. 


209 


Again,  as  induction  is  a  method  of  discovery,  so  deduc- 
tion is  a  method  of  practical  application,  and  the  two  to- 
gether make  up  the  one  complete  method  of  thought. 

But  it  is  time  to  return  to  the  child.     As  we  have  seen, 

his  first  knowledge  is  a  knowledge    of  facts  born  of  his 

own  experience.     He    observes    objects,    tries 

The  Child  .  ^  .  ■" 

an  Original  various  experiments  upon  them,  forms  per- 
Discoverer.  cepts,  brings  apperception  to  reinforce  percep- 
tion, compares  one  thing  with  another,  and  finally  reaches 
some  very  loose  and  indefinite  generalizations.  His  per- 
ceptions as  well  as  his  generalizations  are  more  or  less 
incorrect  and  false,  but  he  corrects  or  rectifies  them  by 
further  observation,  experiment,  and  inference.  There 
is  no  mistaking  the  road  on  which  he  travels.  The  young 
child  groping  about  in  his  dark  world  to  find  out  the 
meaning  of  things  proceeds  inductively,  just  as  does 
the  trained  man  of  science, — the  chemist,  the  astron- 
omer, or  the  biologist, — standing  upon  the  confines  of 
knowledge  and  seeking  to  make  new  discoveries.  What 
the  child  is  doing  is  to  store  up  experience,  that  is,  facts 
and  ideas,  by  which  he  may  interpret  and  understand 
the  world.  He  is  a  learner  who  is  doing  original  work. 
Those  who  have  charge  of  him  turn  his  mind  to  this  ob- 
ject or  to  that  by  placing  it  before  him  and  thus  teach 
him  indirectly  ;  but  to  all  intents  and  purposes  he  is  a 
solitary  worker,  groping  his  way  out  into  the  world  alone. 
He  cannot  take  things  at  second-hand,  or  upon  authority, 
but  he  must  find  them  out  for  himself.  Thus  he  makes 
his  own  knowledge  without  other  assistance  than  is  shown 
in  the  selection  of  his  environment. 

But  deduction  does  not  lag  far  behind.  It  is  in  fact 
implicitly  involved  in  apperception.  In  this  process  the 
ideas  that  the  child  has  formed  are   deductively  applied 

Art  0/ Study. — 14 


210  Tlil^  ART  OF  STUDY. 

in  forming  new  ideas.  That  is,  he  perceives  that  a 
„  ,  new  object  which  is  presented  to  him  is  more 

He  learns  . 

the  Deduct-  or  less  Hke  the  idea  of  an  old  object,  and  so  he 
"^^  ^  °  *  classifies  the  two  together  —  the  snowflake  with 
the  butterfly,  the  serpent  with  the  tail.  He  assumes  that 
things  which  are  alike  belong  to  the  same  class. 

We  have  seen  that  the  child's  first  tuition  is  wholly 
negative.  He  is  taught  by  his  tutors  only  through  the  se- 
The  Method  lection  and  combination  of  the  objects  that  are 

hand^Knowi-P"^  ^'^  ^'^  ^^Y'  ^^  '^^^  dealing,  of  course, 
edge.  with  the  material  world.     Words  to  the  young 

child  are  but  sounds,  not  language ;  they  convey  no 
meaning.  But,  progressively,  language  becomes  significant 
to  him,  which  means  that  he  now  begins  to  enjoy 
direct  tuition.  He  is  still  taught  indirectly  through  his 
environment  as  before ;  but  his  tutors,  as  his  mother  and 
other  members  of  the  family,  greatly  facilitate  his  knowl- 
edge of  things  by  explaining  them  to  him  as  well  as  they 
are  able.  Still  more,  in  due  time,  he  is  told  about  things 
that  he  has  never  seen  or  heard  of,  and  that  lie  wholly 
beyond  his  sphere  of  observation.  He  is  told  things  that 
he  has  had  no  part  in  finding  out,  and  various  means  are 
employed  to  cause  him  to  understand  them.  Pictures 
are  shown  him,  or  he  is  told  that  these  unseen  things 
are  like  such  and  such  things  that  he  has  seen.  In  a  sense, 
this  is  second-hand  knowledge  to  the  child  ;  he  takes  it  from 
another,  and  so  on  authority.  It  comes  from  a  quarter  that 
he  has  not  explored  and  that  he  may  be  incapable  of  explor- 
ing. Moreover,  what  he  is  told  will  be  helpful  or  harmful  to 
him  according  as  it  fits  into  what  he  knows  already.  If  it 
is  sufficiently  like  what  he  knows,  he  will  learn  something 
useful  ;  but,  if  not,  the  effort  will  be  worse  than  thrown 
away.     It  is  only  through  the  facts  and  ideas  he  already 


METHODS  OF  LEARXIXG.  21 1 

has  that  he  can  understand  new  facts  and  ideas,  which 
brings  us  back  to  apperception.  Thus  a  child  who  has 
learned  directly  what  a  dog  is  will  get  some  idea  of  a  wolf 
when  he  is  told  that  a  wolf  is  an  animal  like  a  dog.  This 
is  a  critical  time  in  the  child's  mental  development  — 
the  time  when  his  tutors  begin  to  fit  into  his  narrow 
experience  some  of  their  broader  experience. 

Now  what  is  the  method  of  thought  that  the  child  fol- 
lows in  acquiring  second-hand  knowledge?  Obviously 
the  same  that  he  employed  in  acquiring  first-hand  knowl- 
edge. At  first,  words  spoken  within  his  hearing  are  but 
sound  or  noise,  signifying  nothing.  But  in  time  the  child 
learns  to  listen  to  what  he  hears,  and  seeks  to  find  out 
its  meaning.  He  connects  certain  sounds  with  certain 
visual  or  audible  objects;  he  correlates  gestures  and  other 
forms  of  expression  with  words;  he  puts  this  and  that 
together,  slowly,  patiently,  and  with  many  a  blunder, 
until  he  begins  to  spell  out  the  meaning  of  oral  language. 
This  is  a  part  of  the  process  by  which 

"...     The  manikin  feels  his  way 
Out  from  the  shore  of  the  great  unknown, 
Blind,  and  wailing,  and  alone, 
Into  the  light  of  day." 

The  end  is  discovery,  the  method  is  induction.  Still 
deduction  begins  as  soon  as  a  fair  beginning  has  been 
made.  The  first  ideas  are  used  apperceptively,  and 
through  the  door  of  apperception  deduction  enters.  The 
child  interprets  what  he  hears,  and  interpretation,  when 
once  a  beginning  has  been  made,  is  mainly  deductive. 
Concepts,  rules,  principles,  as  fast  as  they  are  acquired, 
are  used  to  solve  new  problems.  The  completed  process 
of  apperception  in  the  realm  of  secondary  knowledge 
may  be  analyzed  as  follows : 


2  1 2  THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 

1.  Any  animal  that  resembles  a  dog  in  such  and  such  particulars 
is  a  wolf ; 

2.  This  description  or  picture  presents  these  resemblances : 

3.  Therefore  it  is  a  description  or  a  picture  of  a  wolf. 

The  third  proposition  is  inferred  from  the  other  two ; 
the  second  is  the  result  of  an  immediate  observation.  The 
concept  dog  is  part  of  the  child's  first-hand  knowledge, 
but  the  fact  that  wolf  is  the  name  of  the  animal  bearing 
the  resemblance  to  the  dog  is  taken  at  second-hand,  or  on 
authority,  as  indeed  is  the  fact  that  there  is  such  an 
animal  as  a  wolf. 

No  one  can  tell  at  what  time  this  fitting  of  second-hand 
knowledge  to  first-hand  knowledge  begins.  It  differs  in 
different  children,  and  all  we  can  say  is  that  it  begins  just 
as  soon  as  the  mother  or  other  tutor  is  able  to  impart  to 
the  child  any  bit  of  knowledge  through  language  of  any 
kind.  But  in  every  case  it  antedates  the  child's  ar- 
rival in  the  schoolroom  or  even  in  the  kindergarten.  It 
is,  as  said  above,  a  critical  time  in  the  child's  mental  devel- 
opment. In  the  larger  sense,  it  is  the  beginning  of  his 
tuition.     Let  us  see  more  fully  what  it  really  involves. 

So  far  we  have  dealt  mainly  with  the  natural  world. 
But  there  is  a  living  social  world  as  well,  — a  world  of  men 
The  Social  ^"^  women,  —  and  it  is  quite  as  important  that 
World.  the  child  shall    understand  this  social  world  as 

that  he  shall  understand  the  natural  one.  The  child,  in 
other  words,  is  a  social  being,  and  he  must  become  ad- 
justed to  the  social  world' about  him.  The  men  and 
women  who  constitute  this  world  are  all  thinking,  feeling, 
and  doing,  and  he  can  be  efificient,  helpful,  and  happy  only 
as  he  learns  to  cooperate  with  them.  The  meaning  of 
this,  in  the  field  of  labor,  is  that  he  shall  help  them  while 
they  help  him,  or  serve  them  while  they  serve  him  ;  and 


METirODS  OF  LEAR XI XG. 


213 


so  with  respect  to  education,  morals,  politics,  and  re- 
ligion. The  individual  is  a  part  of  the  social  whole,  and 
his  strength  lies  in  his  cooperation  with  that  whole.  It  is 
no  exaggeration  to  say  that,  to  a  degree,  he  must  cooperate 
or  perish  ;  he  has  no  choice  in  the  premises  ;  but  the  extent 
to  which  he  does  his  own  work  and  becomes  efficient  in 
the  world  depends  upon  the  completeness  of  such  cooper- 
ation. If  he  cooperates  but  feebly,  he  is,  comparatively 
speaking,  v/eak,  helpless,  useless,  and   miserable. 

Nor  is  this  all ;  there  is  an  historic  human  world  as  well  as 
a  living  one.  For  thousands  of  years  men  have  been  accu- 
The  His-  mulating  knowledge  in  the  form  of  facts,  ideas, 
toric  World,  la^vs  of  nature  and  of  society,  and  rules  of  con- 
duct. This  accumulation  is  the  store  of  human  experi- 
ence that  descends,  increasing  as  it  goes,  from  generation 
to  generation.  It  represents  the  opportunities  and  striv- 
ings, the  successes  and  failures,  the  thoughts  and  deeds 
of  men,  so  far  as  these  have  been  preserved.  It  is  the 
garnered  wealth  of  civilization,  which,  educationally  con- 
sidered, is  one  of  the  three  great  sources  of  culture- 
material  that  are  accessible  to  men,  the  other  two  being 
the  natural  world  and  the  living  world  of  human  society. 
The  historic  world  and  this  living  world  may  be  called 
the  one  world  of  humanity  under  two  aspects.  Now  the 
child  at  birth  is  just  as  ignorant  of  the  historic  world  as 
he  is  of  the  natural  and  social  worlds.  Moreover,  it  is 
almost  as  important  that  he  shall  become  acquainted 
with  history  as  that  he  shall  become  acquainted  with 
nature  and  society.  This  means  that  he  shall  early  be  in- 
troduced to  the  garnered  store  of  human  experience,  and 
shall  come  to  know  it  as  thoroughly  as  possible  ;  for,  if 
he  is  to  remain  separated  from  it  as  he  is  at  birth,  which 
is  indeed  to  a  great  degree  impossible,  he  must  begin  life 


214 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


as  though  he  were  the  first  human  being  in  the  world, 
having  everything  to  learn  for  himself.  To  be  in  league 
with  history,  —  to  join  hands  with  the  men  and  women  of 
the  past,  —  is  to  enter  into  a  still  larger  cooperation  with 
the  human  world  than  is  possible  by  merely  being  in 
league  with  the  society  of  to-day.  And,  moreover,  it  is 
a  more  difficult  adjustment  to  make. 

How  then  shall  suitable  connections  between  the  child 
and  the  social  and  historic  worlds  be  effected  ?  Here 
are  two  questions,  and  we  shall  deal  with  them  in  the 
order  in  which  they  occur. 

The  social  world  presents  to  the  child  very  different 
materials  or  facts  from  those  that  Nature  presents. 
How  the  The  methods  of  acquirement,  however,  are  the 
chiidEn-     same.     The  child  begins  with   observing    the 

ters  the  °  .  ° 

Social  simple,  concrete  human  facts  right  about  him  — 

World.  ^j^g  ^^j.g  q£  mother,  nurse,  or  of  any  other  per- 

sons who  make  up  the  little  social  world  in  which  he  lives  — 
and  from  this  small  beginning  he  passes  to  the  larger  social 
world  about  him.  Perception  is  followed  by  appercep- 
tion, percepts  by  concepts,  observation  by  comparison  and 
judgment,  and  these  again  by  thought  and  generalization. 
As  in  the  world  of  nature,  so  here,  the  child  begins  alone, 
a  solitary  investigator,  since  none  can  render  him  any  as- 
sistance save  in  the  indirect  and  negative  way  of  throwing 
facts  before  him.  Soon,  however,  he  learns  to  take  social 
facts,  like  natural  facts,  at  second-hand,  or  on  authority. 
Thus,  in  the  simple  contacts  of  the  nursery  and  the  home 
the  child's  education  in  social  adaptation,  in  politics  and 
in  morals  begins.  The  steps  are  precisely  the  same  as 
they  are  in  the  natural  world,  and  are  taken  in  the  same 
order. 

In  a  word,  the  child  learns  the  laws  of  the  social  world 


METHODS  OF  LEARNING, 


215 


in  the  same  way  that  he  learns  the  laws  of  the  natural 
Observation  ^^'orld.  And  SO  it  is  with  the  rules,  maxims, 
and  Indue-  and  proverbs  that  embody  and  perpetuate  the 
practical  or  prudential  wisdom  that  the  race 
accumulates.  In  this  way  he  comes  to  such  generaliza- 
tions as  these  :  "  The  fool  and  his  money  are  soon  parted  ;  " 
"  Honesty  is  the  best  policy  ;"  "  Despotism  tends  to  cor- 
rupt the  people  ;"  "  Freedom  tends  to  national  strength 
and  prosperity  ;  "  "  Experience  is  a  dear  school,  but  fools 
will  learn  in  no  other;  "  "  Barking  dogs  never  bite.''  The 
familiar  saying  of  Francis  Bacon,  "  Reading  maketh  a 
full  man,  writing  a  correct  man,  and  discourse  a  fluent 
man,"  contains  three  such  generalizations.  These  rules 
and  maxims  may  have  many  exceptions,  but  they  flow 
from  observation  and  experience  and  serve  a  very  useful 
practical  purpose.  It  is  perfectly  plain  that  the  process 
by  which  these  generalizations  are  reached  is  induction, 
using  that  term  in  a  sense  broad  enough  to  include  the 
collecting  of  data. 

But,  while  the  laws  and  rules  relating  to  the  existing 
social  world  are  reached  and  proved  by  induction,  they 
Deduction    sre  applied  to  particular  cases,  or  reduced   to 

in  Social       practice,  by  means  of  deduction.     A  man  learns 
World.  \  .  •'  .  ,  ,         ,  ,. 

by  experience  to  associate  such  and  such  quali- 
ties or  acts  with  dishonesty;  he  observes  that  Mr.  A.  has 
these  qualities,  or  performs  these  acts,  and  therefore  in- 
fers that  he  is  dishonest.  This  is  a  pure  syllogism.  Every 
adult  person  performs  scores  of  such  acts  of  reasoning  as 
this  every  day  of  his  life. 

While  it  is  more  difficult  for  the  child  to  effect  a  union 
with  the  historic  world  than  with  the  living,  social  world, 
the  method  is  the  same.  In  one  sense  he  cannot  himself 
observe  the  facts  of  history,  because  these  occur  once  and 


2  1 6  THE  ART  OF  STUD  V. 

are  not  repeated.  The  battle  of  Philippi  was  fought 
How  the  once  for  all;  the  Congress  of  Vienna  sat 
Child  En-      once  for   all,  and  neither  can  be   reproduced. 

ters  the  .  .... 

Historic  There  can  be  no  experiments  in  the  history 
World.  class.       It    is    this    that    makes   historic    facts 

historic.  But  the  child  may  observe,  and  does  observe, 
his  own  acts  and  the  acts  of  others,  which  differ  in  no  es- 
sential feature  from  historic  facts,  and  which  are  con- 
stantly passing  into  history.  One  of  the  great  merits  of 
Comenius,  the  educational  reformer,  was  that  he  demon- 
strated how  all  the  great  departments  of  knowledge  have 
their  beginnings  in  the  experiences  of  infant  life.  "  The 
beginning  of  history,"  he  said,  "  will  be  to  remember  what 
was  done  yesterday,  what  recently,  what  a  year  ago,  what 
two  or  three  years  ago."  Similarly,  "  the  child's  first  in- 
struction in  chronology  will  be  to  know  what  is  an  hour, 
a  day,  a  week,  a  month,  a  year;  what  is  spring,  summer, 
etc."  ^  As  respects  the  past,  the  child  must  take  his  facts 
at  second-hand,  upon  authority.  He  will  find  them  at 
first  in  the  tales  told  by  his  seniors,  but  later  in  books  and 
other  historical  records.  His  own  observation  gives  him 
a  store  of  apperceiving  material.  He  interprets  the  oral 
reports  that  come  to  him  of  what  has  been  by  his  own 
experience  of  what  is,  and  he  reads  his  book  by  the  light 
of  such  experience,  and  of  the  knowledge  that  he  receives 
by  word  of  mouth.  Thus,  both  oral  tradition  and  written 
documents  become  the  child's  teacher,  spreading  before 
him  the  lessons  of  the  past. 

The  processes  of  induction  and  deduction  act  upon 
historic  facts  just  as  they  do  upon  other  facts.  From 
historic  data  the  child  learns  to  derive  general  proposi- 

i  Sc/ioo/ of /n/anc}',  edited  by  W.  S.  Monroe.  Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  & 
Co.,  1896,  p.  20.  J 


METHODS  OF  LEARNING.  2  1 7 

tions,  and  then  to  apply  these  propositions  to  new  cases, 
just  as  in  deaHng  with  the  facts  of  direct  personal  ex- 
perience. Induction  and  deduction,  as  before,  make  up 
the  one  complete  method  of  thought. 

We  have  devoted  some  space  to  explaining  how  the 
child  learns.  His  methods  are  precisely  the  methods  that 
Unity  of  he  will  use  in  after  life.  Still  more,  these 
Methods.  methods  are  essentially  the  same  in  respect  to 
all  subjects.  It  is  important  to  emphasize  these  two 
facts,  for  many  persons  seem  to  associate  induction  and  de- 
duction with  philosophers  and  men  of  science,  never  dream- 
ing that  the  child  or  the  ordinary  man  is  capable  of  per- 
forming such  daring  mental  feats.  There  are  differences 
in  respect  to  the  facts  used,  or  in  respect  to  the  greater  or 
less  perfect  application  of  the  method,  but  nothing  more. 
For  example,  a  writer  commenting  upon  "  the  wonderful 
intuition  "  of  the  Indian  of  the  great  fur  land  of  the 
North,  which  enables  him  to  forego  the  advantage  to 
be  derived  from  a  compass,  and  yet  rarely  to  miss  his 
way,  says :  "  The  trees  he  knows  were  all  bent  to  the 
south,  and  the  branches  on  that  side  were  larger  and 
stronger  than  on  the  north,  as  was  also  the  moss."  It  is 
indeed  by.these  signs,  among  others,that  the  ignorant  sav- 
age chooses  his  way,  but  there  is  no  "  intuition  "  about 
it.  By  induction,  based  on  repeated  observations,  he 
comes  to  the  conclusions  that  the  trees  on  the  wind-swept 
plain,  as  a  class,  lean  to  the  south,  etc.,  and  these  gen- 
eralizations, by  pure  process  of  deduction,  enable  him 
to  adjust  himself  to  all  the  points  of  the  compass. 

Parallel  Reading. — Psychology  Applied  to  Education, 
Gabriel  Compayre'.  Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  &  C0.KI894.  Feda- 
gogy.   Theoretical  and  Practical,    Gabriel    Compayre.     Boston, 


2i8  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  1888.  Apperception  :  A  Monograph  on  Psy- 
chology and  Pedagogy,  Dr.  Karl  Lange,  edited  by  Charles  De 
Garmo.  Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  1893.  Herbart  and  the 
Herbartians,  Charles  DeGarmo.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's 
Sons,  1895.  Part  II.,  Chap.  VII.  ("Apperception").  Talks 
to  Teachers  on  Psychology  afid  to  Students  on  Some  of  Lifers  Ideals, 
William  James.  New  York,  Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  1899.  Chap. 
XIV.  ("Apperception  ").  The  Psychologic  Foundations  of  Edu' 
cation,  W.  T.  Harris.     New  York,  D.  Appleton  ik  Co.,  1898. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

METHODS   OF    TEACHING. 

The  preceding  chapter  was  devoted  to  an  exposition 
of  the  methods  of  learning  as  brief  as  seemed  consistent 
with  clearness.  We  are  now  to  consider  the  bear- 
ing of  this  exposition  upon  the  art  of  study  and  the  art 
of  teaching.  The  answers  to  the  questions  implied  are  as 
direct  and  plain  as  they  are  important. 

First,  the  art  of  study  is  but  a  mode  of  learning  and 
conforms  to  the  same  general  method.  It  is  true  that  we 
stud  a  have  confined  our  definition  of  study  to  books, 
Mode  of  which  lie  in  the  field  of  secondary  knowledge; 
earn  ng.  j^^^.  ^j^^  methods  by  which  the  contents  of 
books  are  appropriated  by  the  mind  have  also  been  ex- 
plained as  not  differing  essentially  from  those  employed 
in  the  acquisition  of  the  knowledge  of  things.  Moreover, 
we  have  kept  real  knowledge  and  the  use  of  the  senses 
continually  in  view,  as  giving  support  to  the  more  refined 
processes  of  the  book. 

Secondly,  teaching  must  conform  in  general  to  the 
same  methods  as  learning.  The  teacher,  to  be  successful, 
Teachingto  '""^"st  take  his  method  from  the  pupil.  If  the 
spring  from  tcachcr's  mcthod  of  teaching  is  not  the 
earn  ng.  p^jpji'g  mcthod  of  learning,  the  two  will  work 
at  cross-purposes,  and  little  progress  will  be  made.     From 

this  main  fact  some  important  rules  of  teaching  follow. 

219 


220  THE  ART  OF  S TUD  V. 

The  first  of  these  rules  is  that  induction  and  deduction 

should  be  judiciously  combined  in  teaching,  from  first  to 

last.     In  one  sense  the  teacher   has  no   option 

Induction       .  ...  i      i     i         • 

and  Deduc-  in  the  premises,  since  induction  and  deduction 
tion  to  be      ^j.^,  \g^y^,^  q(  the  human  mind  that  cannot  be  set 

Combined. 

aside.  Still,  the  teacher  may  fail  in  combina- 
tion, using  one  method  where  the  other  should  be  em- 
ployed, or  in  emphasizing  one  at  the  expense  of  the  other. 

The  second  rule  is  that  the  ratio  of  combination  must 
fluctuate  as  the  studies,  the  pupil's  stage  of  progress,  and 
The  Ratio  the  end  that  the  teacher  has  in  view  fluctuate, 
them^^  This  rule,  which  involves  much  difficulty  in  its 
Fluctuates,  application,  demands,  in  consequence,  a  some- 
what full  elucidation. 

In  the  early  stages  of  school  instruction  the  method  of 
real  knowledge,  —  observation,  experiment,  and  induction 
Induction  ' —  should  be  made  prominent.  As  yet  the 
comes  child  has  not  accumulated  either  a  large  stock 

"  *  of  apperceiving  material  with  which  to  inter- 

pret second-hand  knowledge,  or  worked  out  a  large  num- 
ber of  laws,  rules,  maxims,  for  use  in  practical  life.  He 
is  engaged  in  learning  at  first  hand  the  two  worlds 
about  him, —  nature  and  society.  But  he  is  also  receiving 
knowledge  at  second-hand,  which  he  assimilates  by  means 
of  his  own  observation  and  thought.  Furthermore,  he  is 
learning  the  great  art  of  the  school,  the  art  of  reading, 
and  by  means  of  this  instrument,  also,  he  augments  his 
store  of  second-hand  knowledge. 

Now  the  teacher  may  strive  to  make  his  oral  instruc- 
tion mainly  inductive,  putting  facts  before  general  ideas, 
Deduction  and  the  author  of  the  text-book  may  have  the 
Follows.  same  aim  in  view,  but  it  is  not  possible  to  make 
either  form  of  instruction  as  objective  as  lessons  upon  ob- 


METHODS  OF  TEACHING.  221 

jects  or  lessons  drawn  from  nature  may  be  made.  The  acts 
by  which  the  mind  primarily  interprets  language,  oral  or 
written,  are  essentially  deductive,  as  was  shown  in  the  last 
chapter.  The  same  may  be  said  of  pictures  and  other 
illustrations  that  appeal  to  the  senses.  It  will,  perhaps, 
be  said  that  deduction  also  plays  a  part  in  the  formation 
of  new  ideas  of  natural  objects,  but  this  is  not  the  case  to 
the  same  extent  as  when  language  is  the  medium  of  in- 
struction. It  is  also  to  be  observed  that  book  instruction 
is  more  deductive  and  formal  than  oral  instruction. 

It  is,  therefore,  clear  that  induction  will  be  less  promi- 
nent,  deduction  more  prominent,  in  education  the  greater 

the  dependence  that  is  placed  upon  books  and 
ofFormai-  formal  study.  An  education  that  is  drawn 
Teachinir      mainly  from  books  almost  of  necessity  becomes 

bookish,  abstract,  and  formal.  To  counteract 
this  strong  tendency  recourse  has  been  had  to  various 
agencies. 

The  most  important  of  these  agencies  is  real  or  ob- 
jective teaching.  Comenius,  in  modern  times,  pointed 
Objective  out  that  the  way  to  free  education  from  the 
Teaching,  bondage  of  the  book  was  to  go  back  to  nature. 
He  demanded: 

"  Do  we  not  dwell  in  the  Garden  of  Eden  as  well  as  our  predeces- 
sors ?  Why  should  not  we  use  our  eyes,  and  ears,  and  noses  as  well 
as  they ;  and  why  need  we  other  teachers  than  these  in  learning  to 
know  the  works  of  nature  ?  Why  should  we  not,  instead  of  these 
dead  books,  open  to  the  children  the  living  book  of  Nature  ?  Why 
not  open  their  understanding  to  the  things  themselves,  so  that  from 
them,  as  from  living  springs,  many  streamlets  may  flow?  "  ^ 

The  stress  that  is  now  laid  upon  scientific  teaching,  and 
particularly  laboratory  methods,  is  a  part   of  the  great 

1  The  School  of  Infancy.     IJoston.,  D.  C.  Heath  ^K:  Co.,  1S96,  pp.  36,  37. 


222  THE  AR T  OF  STUD  V. 

educational  movement  that  Comenius  had  so  much  to 
do  with  inaugurating. 

A  second  means  of  overcoming  the  formalism  of  book 
instruction  is  oral  teaching.  While  it  is  true  that  the 
Oral  process  of  interpretation  is  deductive,  the  oral 

Teaching,  method,  notwithstanding  its  own  defects,  tends 
strongly  to  relieve  the  book  of  its  formalism  and  to  keep 
teaching  from  degenerating  into  mere  word  cramming. 

But  nobody  has  ever  proposed  to  throw  aside  books 
as  instruments  of  teaching  and  discipline.  Such  a  proposi- 
inductive  ^^^^  would  involve  cutting  the  child  off,  in  great 
Text-books,  degree,  from  the  past.  It  would  involve  the 
renunciation  of  the  major  part  of  civilization,  and  would 
be  a  long  step  towards  barbarism.  The  book  must  be  re- 
tained —  to  this  all  agree.  Educators  really  differ  on  only 
tw^o  points  —  the  extent  to  which  the  book  shall  be  used, 
and  the  manner  in  w^hich  it  shall  be  used.  Attempts  to 
answer  this  second  question,  have  led  to  a  third  device 
for  overcoming  the  defects  of  book  teaching,  viz. :  induct- 
ive text-books,  or  text-books  written  according  to  the 
inductive  method.  The  characteristic  feature  of  these 
books  is  not  that  deduction  is  thrown  wholly  aside,  in- 
duction being  made  all  in  all,  but  it  consists  rather  in  the  or- 
der in  which  the  two  methods  are  used,  and  the  relative 
stress  laid  upon  each. 

Less  than  fifty  years  ago  text-books  on  arithmetic 
were  prepared  on  the  deductive  plan.  The  author  began 
with  definitions,  proceeded  to  rules,  and  closed 
Arithmetics  "^^'i^^  examples  and  problems.  Few  illustra- 
andGram-  tions  of  the  rulcs  wcrc  given,  and  there  was 
little  explanation  of  methods.  Arithmetic  was 
thus  made  as  abstract  and  formal  as  it  could  be,  con- 
crete elements  being  found   only  in  the  examples   and 


METHODS  OF  TEACHING. 


223 


problems.  The  pupil  ordinarily  passed  by  the  definitions 
and  took  up  the  rules.  By  dint  of  effort  and  such  as- 
sistance as  he  received  from  the  teacher  or  at  home,  he 
learned  "  to  do  the  sums,"  as  the  phrase  was,  which 
fell  under  the  rules.  Study  was  almost  wholly  me- 
chanical. When  a  group  of  miscellaneous  examples  was 
reached,  the  pupil  did  not  so  much  seek  to  handle  them 
according  to  their  nature  as  he  strove  to  find  rules  that 
would  fit  them.  If  the  proper  answers  were  obtained, 
the  assumption  was  that  the  work  was  correct.  Of  course, 
there  were  exceptions  to  this  plan  of  procedure. 

The  same  description  will  apply  to  the  books  on  gram- 
mar. The  order  of  study  was  definitions,  rules,  and  prac- 
tice in  parsing  and  analysis.  But  parsing  and  analysis  are 
purely  deductive  processes.     For  example  : 

1.  All  names  are  nouns; 

2.  John  is  a  name  : 

3.  Therefore  John  is  a  noun. 

This  method  was  pursued  until  the  last  "  property " 
of  the  word  had  been  disposed  of  and  the  final  "  rule  " 
of  syntax  been  applied.  If  possible,  the  grammar 
was  even  more  formal  than  the  arithmetic.  The  geog- 
raphy and  historj'',  when  there  was  any  history,  were  less 
abstract,  because  they  are  not  thought-studies  but  fact- 
studies.  Still,  they  were  taught  wholly  from  books,  as  was 
also  the  little  science  that  found  its  way  into  the  schools. 

It  is  easy  to  see  how  men  came  to  write  such  books  as 

these,  and  to  teach  in  such  a  fashion.     For  one  thing,  the 

catises  most  convenient  method  of  discourse  or  teach- 

That  Pro-         .  .  1         1         r      1-  T-t  1 

duce  Such  i"g  i-'^  "ot  thc  method  of  discovery.  The  dis- 
Text-Books.  coverer  goes  on  accumulating  details  until  he 
feels  justified   in   summing   them   up  in   a  general  state- 


224 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


ment  or  proposition.  He  now  wishes  to  impart  to 
others  what  he  has  learned,  and,  instead  of  repeating  the 
steps  that  he  has  taken,  as  a  discoverer,  slowly  adding  fact 
to  fact,  he  begins  with  stating  the  general  proposition  that 
contains  all  that  he  has  found  out,  and  then,  if  he  thinks 
it  necessary,  he  gives  one  or  two  facts  to  illustrate  his 
meaning.  By  this  process  generalizations  are  put  before 
facts  or  instances. 

This  is  precisely  what  the  authors  of  the  old  arith- 
metics and  grammars  did,  only  they  often  failed  to  add 
explanatory  examples,  or  to  add  them  in  sufficient  num- 
ber. It  was  the  same  way  with  teaching.  The  result 
was  the  formalism  and  barrenness  that  marked  such 
schools  as  those  described  by  Horace  Mann  and  Francis 
Wayland  on  previous  pages. 

The  new  inductive  books  and  inductive  teaching  under- 
take to  bring  the  method  of  instruction  back  to  the 
Inductive  method  of  discovery.  The  author  of  one  of 
Arithmetics  the  new  arithmetics  begins  with  an  operation, 
mars.  or  what  teachers  sometimes  call  "  work."    He 

repeats  the  operation  a  second,  and  a  third 
time  ;  he  gives  similar  examples  that  the  pupil  may  repeat 
it  for  himself ;  and  then,  when  the  process  has  been  well 
mastered,  he  sums  up  the  whole  in  a  rule  or  method,  and 
gives  some  additional  examples  for  the  pupil  to  work  out 
in  order  that  the  process  may  be  well  fixed  in  his  mind. 
An  arithmetical  rule,  it  may  be  observed,  is  simply  a  his- 
tory or  account  of  what  is  done  in  performing  a  typical 
example  falling  under  the  rule.  Such  is  also  the  method 
of  the  new  grammar.  Instead  of  beginning  with  defini- 
tions of  parts  of  speech,  properties,  etc.,  and  advancing  to 
rules  of  etymology  and  syntax,  the  writer  of  the  book 
begins  rather  with  language  itself,  and  from  his  investiga- 


METHODS  OF  TEACHING. 


225 


tion  of  sentences  and  words  works  out  the  rules  and  defini- 
tions. As  before,  the  abstract  elements  follow  the  concrete. 
It  may  seem  difficult  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of 
the  new  step  in  education  which  is  involved  in  the  read- 
«  justment  of  induction  and  deduction,  and    in 

Exaggera-      J 

tion  of  the  larger   employment   of  oral   teaching.     It 

Induction.  ^^^^  really  the  first  step  in  the  path  of  the  new 
education.  Still,  the  importance  of  this  step  has  been 
exaggerated.  Authors  and  teachers  have  sometimes  lost 
sight  of  the  fact  that  deduction  is  an  essential  part  of  the 
one  method  of  thought ;  that  in  teaching  it  is  not  always 
the  best  way  to  repeat  all  the  steps  taken  in  the  discovery 
of  knowledge,  since  doing  so  involves  a  great  waste  of  time 
and  labor ;  and  that  inductive  teaching  itself  may  also  be 
made  formal.  As  respects  the  waste  of  time  and  labor,  it 
is  the  same  thing  as  waste  of  opportunity  and  of  knowl- 
edge. 

We  have  seen  that  it  is  by  means  of  deduction  that  the 
individual  who  is  prepared  for  such  a  step  enters  into  the 
Results  of  great  inheritance  that  his  predecessors  have 
Old  and        prepared   for  him,   or,    in    other   words,    ioins 

New  1  1  •   1       1        1 

Methods.  hands  With  the  historic  world.  It  is  necessary, 
of  course,  that  he  shall  gather  sufficient  apperceiving 
material  by  his  own  personal  efforts  to  enable  him  to  effect 
a  union  with  the  past.  But,  beyond  this,  he  need  not  go 
for  the  purposes  of  the  practical  life.  To  insist  upon  be- 
ginning at  the  beginning  in  eveiything  ;  to  cause  the  child 
to  trudge  along  the  long  inductive  road  ;  to  be  satisfied 
with  nothing  short  of  his  learning  everything  by  his  own 
individual  effort,  means  that  the  child  must  be  cut  off  from 
the  past  altogether  and  live  wholly  in  the  present.  More 
than  this,  insistence  upon  such  a  course  would  cut  the 
child  off  from  his  own  contemporaries  as  well  as  his  pred- 


226  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

ecessors  and  leave  him  alone,  to  perish  in  the  worid. 
Fortunately,  the  thing  is  practically  impossible.  But  at 
the  same  time  it  is  not  difficult  to  ^o  to  such  a  length  on 
this  road  that  serious  loss  of  time  and  effort  will  be  incurred 
with  the  necessary  consequence  of  loss  of  knowledge. 
Hence,  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  make  use  of  the 
"short-cuts"  rather  than  to  keep  to  the  inductive  road. 
It  may  be  added  that  knitting  together  the  new  and  the 
old,  adjusting  the  individual  to  the  world,  is  essential 
to  the  very  conception  of  history.  To  effect  such  an 
adjustment  is  one  of  the  prime  objects  of  education.  Its 
attainment  lies  partly  within  and  partly  without  the  school. 
The  methods  by  which  this  adjustment  must  be  effected 
have  no  doubt  been  explained  at  sufficient  length.  We 
may  dismiss  the  topic  with  a  few  sentences  quoted  from  a 
writer  who  has  investigated  it  with  much  ability  : 

"  Pedagogy  might  be  defined  as  the  art  of  adapting  new  genera- 
tions to  those  conditions  of  life  which  are  the  most  intensive  and 
_     _,  fruitful  for  the  individual  and  the  species.  .  .  .  From  this 

on  "Short-  point  of  view,  the  educational  function  may  be  described, 
Cuts."  though  possibly  not  defined,  as  a  purposeful  social  effort  to 

effect  '  short-cuts  '  in  the  mental  development  of  the  individual  as  well 
as  to  hasten  the  whole  process  so  that  he  may,  in  the  briefest  time,  and 
in  a  thoroughly  natural  way,  attain  the  standpoint  of  the  race  .  .  . 
The '  short-cut  '  theory  in  its  extreme  form  relies  upon  deduction.  It 
Avould  save  the  time  consumed  in  reaching  generalizations.  These, 
formulated  by  the  race,  should  be  transferred  at  once  to  the  individual 
in  order  that  society  may  advance  in  knowledge.  ...  In  the  earlier 
period  chief  emphasis  may  be  laid  on  induction,  but  with  the  growth 
of  self-activity  and  consciousness,  deductive  '  short-cuts  '  may  be  eco- 
nomically introduced."  * 

Besides  its  value  for  practical  direction,  what  has  now 

»  The  Social  Mind  and  Education.  G.  E.  Vincent.  New  York,  The  Mac- 
inillan  Co.,  1897. 


METHODS  OF  TEACHING,  22/ 

been  said  is  an  answer  to  the  demand  that  the  individual, 
in  his  education,  shall  throughout  repeat  the  history  of 
The  indi-  ^^^^  race,  and  learn  everything  by  experience, 
viduai  and  For  a  time,  the  child  must  absolutely  conform  to 
the  Race.  ^j^j^  order,  but  after  a  time  he  should  not,  and 
in  fact  cannot,  save  in  a  limited  degree.  In  other  words, 
he  learns  to  take  the  deductive  short-cuts  in  education ; 
furthermore,  to  refuse  them  entails  infinite  waste  and  is  a 
virtual  denial  that  man  is  a  social  being.  In  the  words 
of  Professor  L.  F.  Ward  : 

"  Nothing  is  calculated  more  forcibly  to  impress  upon  us  the 
conviction  that  the  mass  of  mankind  must  get  their  knowledge  through 
instruction  and  not  through  experience,  nor  yet  through  personal  ob- 
servation and  research,  than  to  note  how  such  great  minds  as  those  of 
Copernicus,  Kepler,  Galileo,  Bacon,  and  Newton  groped  about  in 
darkness  and  doubt  respecting  the  questions  of  planetary  revolution, 
tides,  gravitation,  light,  etc.,  with  which  every  schoolboy  is  now 
familiar."! 

It  is  therefore  evident   that  the  teacher,  for  the  sake  of 

both  knowledge  and  discipline,  should   employ  induction 

and  deduction  from  the  beginning  of  the  child's 

Both  Indue-  .    .  ,  .  ^  .  ^,, 

tion  and  De-  traming,  but  not  m  a  constant  ratio.  1  ne 
ductiontobe^^i^jjj^j  j^ijQuld  be  left  to  find  out  some  things  for 

Employed. 

himself,  but  other  things  he  should  be  told. 
He  should  find  out  some  things  for  himself,  because  there 
is  no  other  way  for  him  to  find  them  out,  and  because  this 
is  the  way  leading  to  the  teachings  of  human  experience. 
He  should  be  taught  other  things,  because  he  would  not 
be  able  to  find  them  out,  or  could  find  them  out  only  by  a 
wasteful  expenditure  of  time  and  effort.  But  what  things 
shall  he   find  out;   what  things  shall  he  be    told?     No 

1  Quoted  in  Vincent's  The  Social  Mind  and  Education.     New  York,  The 
Macniillan  Co.,  1897,  p.  102,  Note. 


228  ^^^^  ^Rl'  OF  STUDY. 

formal  answer  can  be  made  to  these  question's  ;  each  case 
must  be  decided  on  its  own  merits.  However,  two  serious 
mistakes  have  been   made  in  attempting  an  answer. 

One  of  these  is  the  mistake  made  by  the  old  authors 
and  teachers  in  making  teaching  too  formal,  too  bookish, 
too  deductive.  The  other  mistake  is  of  a  di- 
inducHon.  ^cctly  opposite  character.  The  child  is  kept 
"  finding  out  "  things  that  he  already  knows,  or 
things  that  he  had  better  be  told.  There  is  too  much  ob- 
servation and  induction.  We  have  been  told  that  a  child 
should  never  be  told  anything  that  he  can  find  out  for 
himself.  Even  Pestalozzi  said  we  should  read  nothing, 
discover  everything.  No  man  has  ever  brought  up  a 
child  in  accordance  with  these  precepts  ;  no  man  will  ever 
do  so,  because  it  is  impossible.  These  precepts  are  gross 
exaggerations  of  the  important  truths  that  the  child 
should  not  be  told,  and  should  not  read,  too  many  things, 
but  should  be  led  to  exercise  his  own  powers  of  observa- 
tion and  thought.  I  do  not  need  to  measure  the  Michigan 
Central  Railroad  from  Ann  Arbor  to  Chicago  to  find  the 
distance  between  these  points,  because  others  have  already 
measured  it  much  better  than  I  can  do,  while  the  greater 
sense  of  "  reality  "  that  I  should  have  in  doing  it  myself 
would  be  no  compensation  for  the  time  and  money  that  it 
would  cost  me.  But  I  do  need  to  measure  enough  distances 
to  learn  the  process  called  "  measuring,"  and  the  value  of 
different  measures  or  standards.  Such  knowledge  as  this 
can  come  only  by  personal  experience.  Moreover,  such 
experience  saves  the  pupil  from  that  "  facile  use  of  words 
without  ideas  "  which  has  been  called  "  the  clatter  of  ma- 
chinery in  a  factory  in  which  raw  materials  are  scanty  and 
poor."  It  is  only  too  easy  to  tell  children  too  much,  but  it 
is  not  mending  matters  to  refuse  to  tell  them  anything 


METHODS  OF  TEACHING.  229 

that  they  can  find  out  for  themselves.  Investigation  is  a 
great  instrument  of  teaching,  but  it  may  be,  and  sometimes 
is,  overdone.  Teachers  of  physics  in  high  schools,  for 
example,  are  already  recoiling  from  the  extreme  to  which 
teaching  by  experiment  was  at  one  time  carried,  and 
are  placing  more  stress  upon  the  formal  elements  of 
a  good  text-book.  They  find  that  the  experimental 
method  tends  to  overvalue  raw  facts,  and  to  under- 
value those  principles  and  laws  which  constitute  the 
framework  of  the  science.  Sir  J.  G.  Fitch  tells  the  story 
of  an  English  teacher  who,  to  show  the  interest  of  his 
scholars  in  science,  spoke  of  their  fondness  for  the  chem- 
istry of  the  explosive  substances.  But  interest  in  the 
explosive  substances  does  not  necessarily  show  an  interest 
in  chemistry.  Back  of  phenomena,  such  as  explosions,  lie 
the  ideas  that  give  the  science  its  character,  and  science 
can  never  be  fully  understood  until  these  ideas  have  been 
considered  under  both  their  inductive  and  deductive  rela- 
tions. One  merit  of  the  Herbartian  analysis  of  the 
teaching  process  is  the  fact  that  application,  the  last 
of  the  formal  steps,  is  wholly  deductive. 

Perhaps  some  readers  of  this  chapter  who  are  teachers 
will  ask  for  more  definite  directions  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  they  shall  take  the  "  short-cuts  "  in  their  instruc- 
tion.    The  demand  is  a  fair  one  and  easily  met. 

It  is  not  necessary  always  to  follow  the  rule :  Put 
the  facts  before  the  principle,  the  operation  before  the 
"Facts  Be-  method.  The  time  comes  in  the  pupil's  pro- 
fore  princi-  gress  whcn  that  order  may  be,  and  should  be, 
auniversai  rcvcrscd,  with  sucli  recurrence  to  the  former 
Rule.  order  as    may    be    necessary   to   keep   knowl- 

edge   fully    alive.      In   this    way   the    pupil's    time    and 
strength    will    be  saved.     However,    this    change  should 


230  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

not  be  made  until  the  pupil  has  acquired  as  much 
knowledge  and  mental  capacity  as  will  enable  him  to 
grasp  a  general  statement  and,  at  least  with  proper  illus- 
trations, to  understand  and  even  to  apply  it.  In  general, 
it  is  best  to  follow  the  inductive  plan  in  teaching  arith- 
metic and  grammar  in  common  schools.  Geometry,  too, 
may  be  approached  on  the  concrete  or  inventional  side  ; 
but  geometry,  like  algebra,  is  properly  a  deductive  science, 
and  must  be  taught  as  such  or  much  of  its  educational 
value  will  be  sacrificed.  Again,  the  best  teachers  of 
physics  do  not  now  lead  their  pupils  to  extract  the  general 
ideas  that  constitute  the  science  from  the  experiments 
of  the  laboratory.  They  give  them,  progressively,  these 
ideas  in  book  or  lecture,  and  then  send  them  to  the 
laboratory  to  test  and  establish  them.  They  very  prop- 
erly assume  that  the  pupils  know  enough  of  the  physical 
qualities  of  things  to  enable  them  to  make  a  beginning. 
At  this  stage  of  progress  the  teacher  is  careful  to  keep 
the  doctrine  fully  abreast,  and  sometimes  even  a  little 
ahead,  of  the  experiments  ;  but  at  an  earlier  time  this 
would  be  bad  teaching.  It  is  folly,  as  one  author  has 
said,  to  set  the  learner  "  to  rediscovering  the  laws  of 
physics."      He  adds  : 

"  Before  the  pupil  is  in  any  degree  fit  to  investigate  a  subject  ex- 
perimentally, he  must  have  a  clearly  defined  idea  of  what  he  is  doing, 
an  outfit  of  principles  and  data  to  guide  him,  and  a  good  degree  of 
skill  in  conducting  an  investigation." 

Closely  connected  with  this  topic  is  another  one  —  the 
relation  of  the  word  and  the  idea.  In  the  earliest  stage 
of  learning  the  order  is,  first  the  object,  then  the  idea, 
then  the  word.  This  is  a  strictly  necessary  order  ;  the 
child  can  proceed  in  no   other  way.     But  in  course   of 


METHODS  OF  TEACHING.  23 1 

time  the  order  of  the  series  may  be  reversed ;  ideas  may 
be  given  before  objects,  words  may  even  come  before 
"First  the  ideas.  Now  some  enthusiastic  souls  have 
Idea,  then  gone  SO  far  on  the  objective  road  as  to  tell 
not  a  uni-  "^  that  the  early  order  should  always  be  fol- 
versai  Rule,  lowed,  that  the  word  should  never  come  before 
the  idea,  the  language  never  before  the  thought.  This 
dictum  is  an  exaggeration  of  a  very  valuable  idea,  and  is 
as  impossible  of  application  as  is  the  dictum  never  to  tell 
the  child  anything  that  he  can  find  out  for  himself.  At 
one  stage  of  progress  this  rule  is  to  be  closely  followed,  and 
at  no  stage  of  progress  is  it  to  be  forgotten  ;  but  there 
are  times  when  the  inverse  order  of  the  terms  of  the 
series — facts,  ideas,  words — should  be  followed.  For  one, 
I  am  sure  that  I  knew  the  word  "  boomerang "  be- 
fore I  knew  the  idea,  and  I  am  not  sure  that  I  have 
seen  the  thing  even  yet.  What  is  more,  I  have  never 
suffered  any  loss  because  I  acquired  first  the  word  and 
then  the  idea,  although  under  some  circumstances  I  might 
have  done  so. 

Parallel  Reading. —  The  Elements  of  General  Method 
based  on  the  Principles  of  Herbart,  C.  A.  McMurray,  Blooming- 
ton,  Illinois,  Public  School  Publishing  Co.,  1897.  The 
Herbartian  Psychology  Applied  to  Education^  John  Adams. 
Boston,  D.  C.  Heath  &  Co.,  1897.  Teaching  and  Teachers^  H. 
Clay  Trumbull.     Philadelphia,  John  D.  Wattles,  1884. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

FORMAL  TEACHING  OF  THE  ART   OF   STUDY. 

It  was  pointed  out  in  an  early  chapter  of  this  work 
that  the  phrase  "  art  of  study,"  like  the  term  "  art,"  stands 
Two  stages  ^°^  ^'^^^  things.  First,  it  means  skill  or  acquired 
inthe  Art  of  aptitude  in  study.  Secondly,  it  means  this 
^*  skill  or  acquired  aptitude  itself  as  a  subject  of 

study.  In  the  first  case,  we  have  an  activity  that  con- 
stitutes art  in  the  primitive,  original  sense  of  the  term  ;  in 
the  second  case,  we  have  the  rules  or  the  methods  to  which 
such  activity  conforms.  The  first  may  be  called  practical 
art,  the  second  formal  or  reflective  art.  The  art  of  study 
in  the  one  sense  is  exemplified  by  pupils  in  school  rooms  ; 
in  the  other  sense  it  is  treated  in  books  and  lectures  as 
a  subject  of  instruction  or  discourse.  It  is  clear,  there- 
fore, that  this  art,  like  every  other  art,  presents  to  our 
minds  two  stages  —  the  stage  of  practice  and  the  stage 
of  study,  which  may,  indeed,  overlap. 

So  far  we  have  been  dealing  with  the  first  of  these  two 
stages.  It  is  true  enough  that  some  rules  have  been  laid 
_     ,,    ,      down   and    that   much    has   been    said    about 

Practical 

Stage  so  far  method  ;  but  this  has  been  done  solely  for  the 
Considered,  information  and  guidance  of  the  teacher,  not  for 
the  immediate  use  of  the  pupil.  This  instruction  will 
be  useful  to  the  pupil  in  the  second  stage  of  progress, 

232 


FORMAL   TEACHING  OF  ART  OF  STUDY.        233 

that  is,  when  he  begins  to  study  his  art.  Such  matter 
will  not,  however,  help,  but  rather  hinder,  him  in  the 
first  stage  of  progress.  It  cannot  be  too  strongly  asserted 
that  the  pupil  must  learn  to  study  by  actually  studying, 
just  as  he  must  learn  any  other  art  by  actually  practicing 
it.  It  is  the  teacher's  business  to  see  that  he  does  study. 
What  is  more,  the  teacher  must  see  that  the  pupil  studies 
in  the  right  way,  that  is,  according  to  right  rules  or  sound 
method.  What  right  method  is  has  been  told  in  great 
part  on  previous  pages;  but  the  teacher  is  not,  at  this 
stage,  to  attempt  to  teach  the  pupil  method  as  method. 
It  will  be  seen  that  so  far  the  pupil's  method  is  implied 
in  his  work.  He  is,  in  fact,  wholly  unconscious  that  he 
has  any  method  at  all.     He  does   what  he  is 

The  Pupil  ,  ,     ,  .  ,       .        ,.  ,    ,  , 

uncon-         set  to  do,  and  does  it  as  he  is  directed,  but  he 
sciousofhis  i^^s  little  sense,  if  any,  of  the  reasons  why  he 

Method.  .  .     .  ^ 

does  it  or  does  it  in  the  manner  directed.  The 
teacher,  it  is  assumed,  conforms  to  the  laws  of  the  pupil's 
mind  in  all  that  he  does.  In  what  has  now  been  said 
there  is  nothing  peculiar  to  the  art  of  study  ;  it  is  the  same 
with  all  the  other  arts  of  life.  John  Locke  may  be  quoted 
as  follows : 

"  But  pray  remember,  children  are  not  to  be  taught  by  rules  which 
will  be  always  slipping  out  of  their  memories.  What  you  think  nec- 
essary for  them  to  do,  settle  in  them  by  an  indispensable  practice  as 
often  as  the  occasion  returns ;  and,  if  it  be  possible,  make  occasions. 
This  will  beget  habits  in  them  which,  being  once  established,  operate 
of  themselves  easily  and  naturally,  without  the  assistance  of  the 
memory."^ 

It  would  be  even  worse  if  the  rules  did  not  slip  out  of 
the  child's  memory,  for  if  retained  they  would  only  serve 
to  distract  him.     So  much  at  least  is  clear.     But,  more 

1  Some  Thoui^hts  Conccrniu^  Education.  New  York,  The  Macmillan 
Company,  §  66. 


234  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

than  this,  practice  on  the  part  of  the  pupil  must  continue 
to  the  very  end  of  his  course.  Study  of  the  art  can  never 
take  the  place  of  the  study  of  any  subject  as  a  means 
of  mastering  the  art. 

In  the  beginning,  as  we  have  seen,  the  wise  teacher 
simply  directs,  or,  what  is  better,  leads,  the  pupil  to  do 
TheTeacher  ^^'^  work  in  a  prescribed  manner.  He  assigns 
the  Pupil's  no  reasons,  makes  no  explanations,  says  noth- 
ing about  rule  and  method.  To  do  more 
than  this  would  be  folly.  To  talk  to  immature  pupils 
about  discipline,  culture,  mental  habits,  and  good  meth- 
ods either  falls  flat  or  makes  them  self-conscious  and 
priggish.  The  only  thing  for  the  teacher  to  do  is  to  see 
that  they  do  their  work  well,  leaving  these  other  consid- 
erations to  a  later  time.  If  the  teacher  does  this,  the 
pupil  will  be  working  into  the  very  constitution  of  his 
mind  the  art  of  study  as  practical  ability  or  power. 

Again,  the  art  of  study  involves  a  general  and  a  partic- 
ular element,  corresponding  to  the  general  and  the  special 
methodology  of  teaching.  The  first  element  consists  of 
rules  and  precepts  that  are  of  general  application  ;  the 
second  constitutes  the  rules  and  precepts  that  relate  to 
particular  subjects.  Then  there  is  a  practical  skill  in- 
volved in  handling  a  subject  that  can  be  acquired  only 
by  handling  that  particular  subject.  Save  in  a  general 
sense,  the  student  does  not  learn  how  to  handle  the 
facts  of  history  by  handling  the  facts  of  science.  A  stu- 
dent may  know  how  to  study  mathematics  and  not  know 
how  to  study  history  ;  or  he  may  succeed  with  grammar 
and  not  with  literature.  Every  subject  has  its  own  tech- 
nique. Some  remarks  on  the  relative  difficulties  of  mathe- 
matical and  scientific  method  and  historical  and  literar}' 
method  have  been  made  in  another  place. 


FORMAL  TEACHING  OF  ART  OF  STUDY. 


235 


But  the  time  comes  when  it  is  necessary  or  advanta- 
geous for  the  pupil  to  enter  upon  the  second  stage  of  his 
Formal  ^"^^ »  ^^'^^  ^^'  ^^^  formal  or  reflective  stage. 
stage.  Hitherto  the  teacher  has  silently    guided  his 

work  according  to  rule  and  method.  Now  he  takes  the 
pupil  into  his  confidence,  explaining  to  him  in  some 
measure  the  processes  that  he  has  been  mastering  by 
practice,  and  the  rules  that  govern  them.  As  a  result, 
the  pupil  begins  to  consider  his  studies  in  relation  to 
his  own  mind,  and  so  to  become  somewhat  self-conscious. 

To  be  more  explicit,  the  teacher  has  hitherto  seen  to 
it  that  the  pupil  does  not  become  absorbed  in  his  environ- 
How Rules  ^''^^'''t'  that  he  is  protected  against  distract- 
of  study  ing  influences,  and  that  he  applies  himself  as 
r  g  na  e.  dQgejy  ^g  possible  to  his  lessons.  The  teacher 
now  causes  him  to  understand  that  the  things  he  has  been 
doing  are  conditions  of  successful  study,  and  so  are  es- 
sential to  learning.  They  are  now  brought  before  him  as 
rules  to  be  observed.  To  take  another  example,  the 
teacher  has  been  in  the  habit  of  leading  the  pupil  to  def- 
initions and  rules  by  the  way  of  examples,  or  he  has  em- 
ployed the  method  of  induction ;  but  now  he  causes  the 
pupil  to  understand  the  nature  of  what  he  has  been  doing, 
and  the  difference  between  induction  and  deduction,  which 
reverses  the  process.  He  presents  the  rule  that  in  at- 
tacking a  new  subject  it  is  better  to  begin  with  facts  than 
with  definitions  and  rules.  It  is  not  indeed  desirable  for 
the  teacher  to  use  technical  language,  to  talk  about  study 
as  a  practical  art  and  as  a  reflective  art ;  but  he  should 
not  miss  treating  the  things  for  which  these  names  stand. 

The  pupil  will  in  some  measure  anticipate  the  teacher. 
He  will  of  himself  attend  to  the  simpler  things  of  method. 
He  will,  that  is  to  say,  see  that  there  are  rules  back  of  the 


236  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

things  that  he  does  and  that  these  rules  have  practical 
«.    „    «      value.     He  discovers,  for  example,  that  he  does 

The  Pupil  . 

Anticipates  not  get  on  with  his  studies  when  he  is  over, 
the  Teacher,  .^j.^^.^^^^  J  in  external  objects,  when  he  is  dis- 
turbed by  a  noisy  or  idle  companion,  or  when  he  al- 
lows his  mind  to  go  wool-gathering.  These  discoveries, 
as  he  becomes  reflective,  more  or  less  influence  his  mind 
and  affect  his  work.  They  fortify  the  indispensable  prac- 
tice in  which  the  teacher  strives  to  establish  him.  He 
becomes  intelligent  and  rational  in  his  practice,  and  takes 
more  pleasure  in  it.  Intellectually,  he  is  coming  to  be  a 
law  unto  himself.  Nor  is  this  all  :  the  pupil  may  even 
take  an  interest  in  the  rules  that  relate  to  his  work,  be- 
cause he  sees  that  they  embody  ideas.  He  discovers 
order  and  system,  or  rational  method,  in  what  the  teacher 
requires  him  to  do,  and  is  pleased  and  encouraged  in  con- 
sequence. In  fact,  the  quick-witted  pupil,  well  trained 
in  his  studies,  will  make  some  progress  in  generalizing 
his  own  experience  without  the  formal  assistance  of  his 
teacher.  In  other  words,  his  art  of  study  will  pass  un- 
consciously into  the  second  stage.  At  the  same  time,  it 
is  the  business  of  the  teacher,  as  already  pointed  out,  to 
facilitate  this  passage. 

It  will  be  asked,  as  a  matter  of  course,  at  what  age  or 
stage  of  progress  in  his  studies  the  pupil  should  enter  upon 
The  Pas-  the  formal  study  of  his  art.  The  question  does 
sage  from  not  admit  of  a  positive  answer.  Mental  growth 
Second  ^^  not  sliarply  divided  into  periods ;  the  very  con- 
stage.  ception   of  growth  excludes   any   such    thing. 

The  pupil  does  not  become  a  reflective  student  at  a  def- 
inite time,  as  a  man  may  enter  the  army,  or  take  up  the 
work  of  teaching  at  a  definite  time.  But  some  approxi- 
mation to  an  answer  can  be  made. 


FORMAL   TEACHING  OF  ART  OF  STUDY. 


^17 


During  the  first  stage  of  progress  in  the  art  of  study, 
and  at  a  comparatively  early  time,  too,  the  teacher  will 
First  drop  a  hint   here,  and   throw   out  a  suggestion 

Formal  In-  there,  that  the  pupil  will  find  practically  helpful. 
These  practical  hints  and  suggestions  consti- 
tute the  formal  art  of  study  in  its  simplest  elements. 
Naturally,  they  will  become  more  numerous  and  com- 
prehensive as  time  goes  on.  By  the  time  that  the  pupil 
reaches  the  high  school,  or  even  before,  he  should  have 
acquired  many  of  the  elementary  ideas  that  enter  into 
the  method  of  study,  and  have  learned  to  act  upon  them. 
This  is  especially  true  of  the  more  mechanical  and  prac- 
tical of  these  ideas.  Study  as  a  reflective  art,  the  stu- 
dent caimot  be  expected  to  master  until  he  becomes 
familiar  with  the  main  facts  and  principles  of  psychology 
and  logic  ;  but  he  may  be,  and  should  be,  an  excellent  stu- 
dent before  that  time,  practically  well  instructed  in  his 
art.  Method  has  culture  value  as  well  as  guidance  value; 
but  there  is  no  good  reason  for  teaching  it  in  the  schools 
save  as  it  improves  practice  in  the  corresponding  art.  It 
would,  indeed,  be  idle  or  something  worse  to  attempt  to 
teach  pupils  who  have  not  studied  psychology  and  logic 
Chapters  XIX.  and  XX.  of  this  work.  The  teacher  must 
never  forget  that  formal  teaching  of  the  methods  of 
study  is  not  the  same  thing  as  making  the  pupil  proficient 
in  the  art  of  study. 

We  now  reach  the  question.  What  is  the  subject-matter 
of  the  art  of  study  that  the  pupil  is  to  learn  and  the 
Subject-  teacher  to  teach  ?  At  this  stage  of  our  work 
Matter  of     ^\^q  answcr  should  not  be  difificult.     This  sub- 

The  Formal  .  .... 

Art.  jcct-matter,  to   a  great    extent,  is  the    subject- 

matter  of  this  book :   it   is  methods  of  study  and  learn- 
ing, treated  as  a  study  or  subject. 


238  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

This  book  has  been  written  with  the  teacher  immedi- 
ately in  mind.  It  describes  the  way  in  which  teachers 
This  Book  should  teach  pupils  in  order  to  make  them 
^f^i^^r        proficient    in  the   art  of   study.     But    the   art 

With  the  •' 

Teacher  of  teaching  and  the  art  of  study  are  related  in 
in  Mind.  the  Same  way  that  teaching  and  learning  are. 
The  teacher  takes  his  methods  from  the  pupil's  mind. 
It  follows,  therefore,  that  much  of  the  knowledge  of 
method,  which  is  useful  to  the  teacher  in  teaching,  should 
also  be  useful  to  the  learner  in  learning,  just  as  soon  as 
he  is  able  to  understand  and  apply  it.  A  manual  for  the 
teacher  should  also  be,  in  a  certain  sense,  a  manual 
for  the  pupil  who  is  able  to  use  it.  The  matter  in  the 
present  work  that  might  be  of  use  to  pupils  has  not  been 
put  in  the  form  best  suited  to  their  capacity,  since 
this  book  has  been  prepared  primarily  for  the  use  of 
teachers.  Teachers,  however,  should  know  how  to  select 
what  they  can  use  or  adapt  for  the  pupil's  benefit. 

The  teacher  and  the  pupil  have  much  more  in  com- 
mon than  has  yet  appeared.  The  teacher  who  is  not 
"What  the  also  a  studcnt  has  no  business  in  the  school 
Teacher        room.     It  is  a  commonplace  that  the  teacher 

and  Pupil  11,  1  1  1  1   . 

Have  in  sliould  Constantly  seek  to  enlarge  his  own 
Common,  knowledge.  This  work  should  therefore  have 
a  double  value  for  those  for  whom  it  is  expressly  written, 
— a  value  for  them  as  teachers,  and  another,  as  stu- 
dents. Since  many  teachers  have  a  feeble  grasp  of 
study  as  a  reflective  art,  and  are  indifferent  students, 
as  was  stated  in  a  former  chapter,  they  should  lay  to 
heart  these  lessons  for  their  own  sake,  as  well  as  for  the 
sake  of  their  pupils.  Furthermore,  some  paragraphs  may 
be  added  that  teacher-students  should  find  especially 
interesting  and  helpful. 


FORMAL   TEACHING  OF  ART  OF  STUDY. 


239 


The  relative  lack  on  the  part  of  adults  of  volitional 
control  of  their  attention,  or  their  minds,  is  a  fact  very 
Intermit-  familiar  to  competent  observers.  There  are 
tent  Minds,  intermittent  minds,  as  there  are  intermittent 
fevers  and  intermittent  springs.  Many  persons  have  never 
gained,  in  any  proper  measure,  the  power  of  self-regulation. 
They  are,  for  the  most  part,  controlled  from  without 
through  their  interests  and  feelings.  Many  others  have 
gained  this  power  in  a  degree,  that  is,  in  relation  to  cer- 
tain kinds  of  activity.  Voluntary  activity,  through  repeti- 
tion, has  hardened  down  into  routine  and  habit.  These 
persons  now  run  easily  and  swiftly,  but  automatically,  in 
their  ruts,  while  outside  of  their  ruts  they  can  hardly  run 
at  all.  It  cannot  be  said  that  they  have  any  real  self- 
mastery  of  their  minds.  There  are  still  other  persons 
who,  at  some  time,  have  attained  to  good  general  discipline, 
but  who,  through  failing  to  keep  up  their  training,  as  an 
athlete  would  say,  have  lost  it.  Educated  men  answering 
to  the  last  two  descriptions  arc  by  no  means  unfrequcnt. 
Some  of  them,  particularly  those  of  the  third  class,  are 
persons  of  much  cultivation.  Outside  of  their  wonted 
rounds,  however,  they  cannot  set  themselves  to  work,  or, 
if  they  do,  cannot  work  with  efficiency.  Such  persons  are 
almost  as  weak  in  the  power  of  self-direction  as  children. 
They  arc  good  examples  of  arrested  development :  they 
have  never  won,  or  having  won,  have  never  held  the 
heights  of  self-discipline.  It  may  be  said  of  persons  of 
this  description  that  they  have  permitted  their  minds  to 
escape    from  them. 

Adults  who  have  little  volitional  control  over  their 
minds,  either  because  they  have  never  acquired  it,  or  be. 
cause  they  have  lost  it,  may  find  it  necessary  to  take  severe 
measures  with  themselves.     Here  is  a  man,  for  example, 


240 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


who,  owing  to  his  feeble  power  of  attention,  will  never 
do  a  piece  of  work  that  he  is  perfectly  capable  of  doing. 
Methods  of  unless  there  is  some  cogent  motive  behind  him. 
Volitional    What  should  he   do?     Obviously,   he   should 

Control.  •' 

study  to  put  some  such  motive  behind  him.  If 
he  has,  say,  too  much  pride  to  fail  if  he  once  begins, 
then  let  him  begin.  Or,  if  he  is  too  conscientious  to 
break  his  promise,  then  let  him  promise.  In  these  cases 
enough  will  is  assumed  to  make  the  beginning ;  that 
made,  pride  or  moral  sense  reenforces  and  steadies  the 
will  until  the  work  is  done.  It  is  not  uncommon  for  per- 
sons of  a  light,  trifling  habit  and  aimless  life  to  become 
centered  on  some  line  of  activity,  and  so  become  useful 
to  society,  simply  by  assuming  some  responsibility,  — 
perhaps  the  care  of  a  flower  garden,  the  protection 
and  education  of  a  waif  picked  up  on  the  street,  or  the 
promotion  of  a  charity.  It  is  a  commonplace  that  mother- 
hood often  changes  the  whole  current  of  a  woman's 
life,  if  it  does  not  make  over  her  character.  There  are 
numerous  ways  in  which  men  who  are  doing  little  or 
nothing  can  place  themselves  in  front  of  moral  goads  that 
will  keep  them  up  to  a  certain  standard  of  efficiency  ;  or, 
to  change  the  figure,  numerous  ways  in  which  they  can 
put  themselves  under  bonds  to  do  something  and  be  some- 
body. If  they  can  work  under  pressure,  and  not  other- 
wise, then  they  should  create  the  pressure.  The  follow- 
ing is  an  amusing  example  : 

"  There  is  an  anecdote  related  of  himself  by  Alfieri,  in  his  very  inter- 
esting autobiography,  describing  the  way  in  which  he  compelled  him- 
Anecdote  of  self  to  keep  at  his  work.  Being  ver)'  fond  of  horses  and 
Alfieri.  of  riding,  he  often  left  his  desk  and  writing  to  take  an  ex- 

cursion. No  matter  what  resolution  he  made,  the  temptation  of  a 
fine  day  was  too  strong  to  be  resisted.     So  he  directed  his  sen'ant 


FORMAL  TEACHING  OF  ART  OF  STUDY: 


241 


to  tie  him  in  his  chair,  and  to  fasten  him  by  knots  he  could  not 
himself  loosen,  and  then  go  out  of  sight  and  hearing  for  a  certain 
number  of  hours.  Thus  Alheri  was  obliged  to  keep  at  his  desk.  He 
adds  that  to  avoid  the  ridicule  of  his  being  found  by  chance  visitors 
thus  fastened,  the  ser\'ant  covered  him  with  a  cloak  before  departing. 
Thus  the  higher  nature  conquered  the  lower,"  1 

There  drifts  to  me,  as  I  write,  a  strange  but  not  im- 
probable story  that  teaches  a  similar  lesson.  It  is  the 
The  Man  story  of  a  man  who  called  on  the  warden  of  the 
who  Asked  Ohio  Penitentiary  at  Columbus,  and  asked  that 
to  «ie  Pent  ^^^  ^^  lockcd  up  for  six  months  and  be  treated 
tentiary.  like  a  common  criminal.  As  he  gave  his  name 
and  place  of  residence,  was  well  dressed,  and  seemed  to 
have  plenty  of  money,  had  not  been  drinking,  and  did 
not  appear  to  be  insane,  the  warden  was  astonished  and 
demanded  an  explanation  of  his  strange  conduct.  "  I 
have  had  a  good  time  all  my  life,"  said  he,  "  and  have 
never  tried  to  do  anything  for  myself  except  enjoy  my- 
self. Now  I  have  come  to  such  a  pass  that  I  cannot 
settle  down  to  work  or  steady  employment  of  any  kind. 
I  am  a  nuisance  to  myself  and  to  my  friends.  I  thought 
this  matter  all  over  and  made  up  my  mind  to  apply  to 
you.  If  you  will  take  me  in  and  keep  me  for  the  space 
of  six  months,  I  will  sign  any  papers  you  say.  I  want  to 
be  treated  just  like  a  criminal  and  will  work,  eat,  and 
sleep  with  the  common  herd.  I  believe  that  in  this  way 
I  can  get  the  discipline  of  which  I  am  so  sorely  in  need." 
The  warden  refused  his  request,  as  a  matter  of  course,  say- 
ing as  he  did  so,  that  the  State  had  made  no  provision  for 
men   like   him.    Whereupon   the  man   turned  away  with 

'  Self-Culture :  Physical,  Intellectual,  Moral  aud  Spiritual,  James  Free- 
man Clarke.     New  York,  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  p.  374. 

A  rt  0/  Study  — 16 


242  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

the  declaration  that  he  would  come  to  the  prison  before 
long  under  conditions  that  would  make  it  impossible  for 
the  officer  to  deny  him  the  discipline  that  he  needed. 
The  story  may  not  be  a  genuine  one,  or  the  stranger  may 
have  been  practicing  upon  the  officer ;  but  there  is  no 
question  that  a  discipline  such  as  they  might  receive  in  a 
well-managed  penitentiary  would  be  very  useful  to  num- 
bers of  persons  who  are  not  criminals.  Possibly  we  need 
institutions  for  the  confinement  and  discipline  of  such 
men  as  have  no  real  self-control  or  power  of  self-regulation. 

The  regimen  by  which  mental  discipline  is  maintained  is 
very  like  the  regimen  by  which  it  is  first  acquired.  This 
Th  Main-  *^  ^  regimen  of  application,  of  attention,  of 
tenance  of  regulated  activity.  Some  persons  make  the 
Discipline,  rnistake  of  supposing  that,  mental  discipline 
once  gained,  they  can  safely  lapse  into  routine, 
inertia,  or  carelessness.  This  is  by  no  means  so  if  they 
wish  to  keep  up  their  training.  The  mistake  explains,  in 
many  cases,  the  deterioration  in  discipline  and  culture  that 
marks  the  passage  of  the  student  from  college  or  university 
to  real  life.  The  pressure  of  the  school  removed,  he  falls 
into  laxity  and  feebleness.  One  or  two  habits  of  mind 
may  properly  be  mentioned  that,  when  carried  too  far, 
subvert  the  basis  of  mental  discipline,  destroy  attention, 
and  leave  the  mind  the  sport  of  environment. 

One  is  the  habit  of  cultivating  directly  or  indirectly  a 
great  number  of  miscellaneous  interests  and  activities 
Effects  of  governed  by  no  real  controlling  purpose.  A 
MisceUane-  little  of  this,  a  little  of  that,  and  a  little  of 
estS  and*^'  ^^^  Other  may  constitute  a  very  palatable  men- 
Activities,  tal  diet,  but  it  will  not  keep  up  a  high  degree 
of  mental  vigor  or  tone.  The  daily  newspaper  fills  an 
important  place  in  current  life  ;  but  it  will  not  nourish 


FORMAL   TEACHIXG  OF  ART  OF  STUDY.        243 

and  sustain  a  disciplined  mind.  Much  the  same  may  be 
said  of  the  magazine  or  other  Hterary  journal.  Such  litera- 
ture  has  its  value;  some  acquaintance  with  it  seems  indis- 
pensable to  the  most  cultivated  persons;  but  something 
more  and  something  very  different  is  necessary  if  mental 
discipline  is  to  be  maintained.  In  the  very  abundance 
of  such  material,  and  the  ease  with  which  it  can  be  used, 
lurks  one  of  the  intellectual  dangers  of  the  time.  Much 
the  same  may  be  said  of  the  reading  of  miscellaneous 
books  without  any  settled  plan  or  purpose.  It  leads  to 
vagrant  mental  habits,  to  intellectual  Bohemianism. 
There  is  probably  no  kind  of  literature  that  is  more  harm- 
ful to  the  intellect,  if  read  indiscriminately,  than  sensa- 
tional novels.  They  excite  the  emotions,  keep  the  mind 
feverish  and  disturbed,  and  destroy  the  intellectual  fiber. 

The  main  point  is  that  the  easy-going,  desultory 
pursuit  of  miscellaneous  interests  will  neither  develop 
power  of  attention,  or  mental  discipline,  in  the  first 
place,  nor  maintain  it  when  it  has  once  been  developed. 
Many  interests  must,  for  the  time  at  least,  be  dismissed  ; 
the  mind  must  be  focused  on  chosen  subjects,  and  this 
regimen  must  be  maintained. 

The  teacher,  then,  should  look  after  his    own  will,  as 

well  as  the  wills  of  his  pupils.       His  mind  needs  to  be 

pirded,    his    attention    regulated,    as    well    as 

The  Teacher  °      .  „,  .     .  .    ,  ,       ,  •    , 

to  Control  thcus.  1  liis  IS  esscntial  to  the  higliest  success 
his  own  jj-j  teaching,  especially  when  the  lessons  ap- 
peal to  thought  rather  than  to  perception. 
A  scatter-brained  teacher  will  not  focus  the  minds  of 
pupils.  Hence  the  value  to  the  teacher  of  the  admoni- 
tions :  "  Do  not  let  your  mind  escape  from  you  ;  keep  it  in 
hand  ;  and,  if  it  has  already  escaped,  pursue  it,  capture  it, 
and  bring  it  back  again." 


244 


THE  AR  T  OF  STUD  V. 


It  is  not  improbable  that  some  readers  will  desire  some- 
thing more  definite  and  concrete  concerning  our  subject 
than  has  so  far  been  presented.  This  desire  can  best  be 
met  by  a  slight  account  of  the  literature  that,  taken 
together,  comprises,  in  the  formal  sense,  an  art  of  study. 

In  his  essay  on  "The  Art  of  Study  "  Dr.  Bain  mentions 
several  of  the  writers  who  have  contributed  to  this  litera- 
ture.     He    quotes   the    celebrated   remark    of 

Dr.  Balu  on 

the  i,iter-     Hobbes,  that  if  he  had  read  as  much  as  other 
ature  of        men  he  would  still  have  remained  as  ignorant 

our  Art.  ^  ° 

as  they.  This  was  Hobbes'  way  of  empha- 
sizing the  value  of  personal  thought  upon  subjects  of 
study.  Bain  also  quotes  these  sentences  from  John 
Locke : 

"  Those  who  have  read  of  ever^-thing',  are  thought  to  understand 
everjlhing  too  ;  but  it  is  not  always  so.     Reading  furnishes  the  mind 

only  with  materials  of  knowledge  ;  it  is  thinking  makes 
o    ^  d°*^  ^   what  we  read  ours.     We  are  of  the  ruminating  kind,  and 

it  is  not  enough  to  cram  ourselves  with  a  great  load  of 
collections ;  unless  we  chew  them  over  again,  they  will  not  give 
us  strength  and  nourishment.  .  .  .  Books  and  reading  are  looked 
upon  to  be  the  great  helps  of  the  understanding,  and  instruments  of 
knowledge,  as  it  must  be  allowed  that  they  are  ;  and  yet  I  beg  leave 
to  question  whether  these  do  not  prove  an  hindrance  to  many,  and 
keep  several  bookish  men  from  attaining  to  solid  and  true  knowl- 
edge. .  .  .  To  do  this  (avoid  being  imposed  upon  by  fallacies)  the 
surest  and  most  effective  remedy  is  to  fix  in  the  mind  the  clear  and 
distinct  idea  of  the  question  stripped  of  words ;  and  so  likewise,  in 
the  train  of  argumentation,  to  take  up  the  author's  ideas,  neglecting 
his  words,  obsen'ing  how  they  connect  or  separate  those  in  the  ques- 
tion." 1 

Locke's  TJioiigJits  Concerfiing  Edticatio7i  is  also,  in 
some  measure,  a  contribution  to  our  art. 

1  The  Conduct  of  the  Understanding.  New  York,  The  Macmillan  Co.,  I, 
§§  2o,  24,  42. 


FORMAL  TEACHING  OF  ART  OF  STUDY.        245 

Dr.  Bain  mentions  Dr.  Isaac  Watts'  book,  TJic  Improve- 
ment of  the  Mind,  which  was  well  known  to  our  ances- 
tors a  generation  or  two  back,  and  from  which 
"Improve-    many  of  them  derived  much  benefit.     Among 
mentofthe  j-j^g  numcrous  chapters  the  one  entitled  "Books 

Mind."  ,, 

and  Reading'  was  perhaps  of  greatest  practical 
value,  but  mention  may  also  be  made  of  those  en- 
titled "  Study  or  Meditation,  "  Fixing  the  Attention," 
and  "  Improvement  of  the  Memory." 

Another  book  belonging  to  the  same  class,  but  a  later 
one,  was  Dr.  John  Todd's  Student's  JManual,  which  ob- 
_  ...  tained    an  enormous    circulation  both    in    this 

Todd's 

"Student's  couutry  and  in  England.  Dr.  Bain  disparages 
Manual."  jj..  ^^^^  while  it  is  full  of  homilies  and  other  anti- 
quated matter,  still,  a  large  part  of  the  little  treatise  may 
yet  be  read  by  students  with  advantage.  Often  the  pre- 
cepts and  homilies  of  the  author  are  set  off  by  appropriate 
examples,  incidents,  and  anecdotes.  In  the  chapter  on 
study.  Dr.  Todd  presents  these  phases  of  the  subject :  "  The 
number  of  hours  of  daily  study  "  ;  "  Have  regard  to  the 
positions  of  the  body  while  engaged  in  study";  "  Let 
there  be  no  conversation  in  the  hours  of  study  "  ;  "  Be  thor- 
ough in  every  study  "  ;  "  Expect  to  become  familiar  with 
hard  study  "  ;  "  Remember  that  the  great  secret  of  being 
successful  and  accurate  as  a  student,  next  to  perseverance, 
is  the  constant  habit  of  reviewing  "  ;  "  Be  faithful  in  ful- 
filling your  appointed  exercises  "  ;  "  Learn  to  rest  the  mind 
by  variety  in  your  studies,  rather  than  by  entire  cessation 
from  study."  No  doubt  these  lessons  are  extremely  com- 
monplace to  practiced  scholars  ;  but  they  are  new  to  every 
new  generation  of  pupils  and  must  be  learned  afresh  by 
them.  This  is  one  of  the  cases  where  the  individual  does  re- 
capitulate, and  must  recapitulate,  the  experience  of  the  race. 


246  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

Particular  attention  should  be  given  to  Dr.  Bain's 
own  essay,  which  is  the  very  best  one  that  we  have 
Dr.  Bain's  on  the  Specific  subject,  '*  The  Art  of  Study." 
Essay.  Some  paragraphs  have  been  quoted  on  pre\-ious 

pages  illustrating  his  practical  method,  and  furnishing 
matter  valuable  in  itself. 

It  will  be  seen  that  we  have  entered  the  domain  of  self- 
culture,  of  which  there  is  a  large  and  constantly  growling 
literature.  Reference  mav  be  made  to  the  books 

literatare 

of  Self-  and  articles  coming  from  the  press  which  deal 
Culture.  #  with  such  topics  as  "  The  Use  of  Books,"  "The 
Selection  of  Books,"  "  The  Hundred  Best  Books," 
"  Reading  and  Self-culti^-ation,"  and  to  the  mxiltitude 
of  dictionaries,  cyclopedias  "  literatures,"  indexes,  and 
bibliographies  that  so  greatly  lighten  the  labor  and  multi- 
ply the  resources  of  the  scholar.  It  is  much  to  be  desired 
that  teachers,  and  older  pupils  too,  should  become  ac- 
quainted with  some  of  the  books  that  deal  with  self- 
culture  in  its  broadest  phases.  There  is  Professor  John 
Stuart  Blackie's  Self-Culture :  Intellectual,  Physical  and 
Moral,  and  Rev.  James  Freeman  Clarke's  Self-Culture  .- 
Physical,  Intellectual,  Moral  and  Spiritual.  The  last 
comprises  a  series  of  twenty-one  lectures,  covering  the 
whole  field  of  self-cultivarion.  The  author  deals  with  the 
imagination,  the  conscience,  the  temper,  the  will,  hope, 
reverence,  and  several  other  topics  of  the  most  pracrical 
character.  Favorable  mention  may  also  be  made  of  Hoti? 
to  Do  It,  by  Edward  Everett  Hale,  Self-Cultivaticnt  in 
English,  by  G.  H.  Palmer.  The  Choice  ofBcrcks  and  Other 
Literary  Pieces,  by  Frederic  Harrison,  and  Bocks  That 
Have  Helped  Me,  by  various  writers. 

Then  there  is  the  class  of  books  represented  by  the  two 
small  volumes  entitled  Libraries  and  Readers,  by  William 


FORyfAL   TEACHIXG  OF  ART  OF  STi'DY. 


247 


EL  Foster,  and  Libraries  anJ  Schools^  by  Samuel  S. 
Green.  Both  books  contain  much  excellent  matter  re- 
lating to  method- 

I  may  mention,  too.  Mr.  Harr>-  L>-man  Koopman's  little 
volume.  The  Mastery  of  Becks.  This  book  consists  of  sev- 
Koopauui's  ^'^  helpful  essays  or  chapters,  including  a 
"Mast«T  classified  list  of  books,  that  is  the  more  useful 
because  it  is  not  overgrown.  Chapter  XI.  con- 
sists mainly  of  a  judicious  list  of  books  thit  deal  with 
the  subject  of  reading. 

Much  of  the  best  literature  relating  to  self-cultiii-ation 

is  found  in  essays  and  periodical  articles.     These  may  be 

readilv  found,  if  the  books  and  periodicals  are 

Periodicals.  * 

at  hand,  by  the  use  of  Poole's  Index  and  other 
similar  works.  Good  articles  on  phases  of  the  subject  fre- 
quently appear  in  the  numerous  magazines  and  other 
similar  publications,  and  the  good  teacher  should  be  on 
the  lookout  for  them. 

The  mention  of  dictionaries,  cjxlopedias,  and  indexes 
suggests  the  ob\nous  remark  that,  when  pupils  become 

old  enough  to  use  such  helps,  teachers  should 

therseof  teach  them  how  to  use  them.  This  is  a  part  of 
tkeiHctioa-  ^h.^  art  of  studv-  which  is  much  neglected.     An 

mxj.  .  '      ,  * 

occasional  lesson  in  the  practical  use  of  an  un- 
abridged dictionar^■  could  be  given  v^-ith  advantage  to 
pupils  who  are  learning  to  use  that  important  work. 

However,  the  wise  instructor  who  essays  to  teach  the 
use  of  this  work  \N-ill  not  be  content  to  have  his  students 
simply  learn  definitions.  He  will  show  them  progress- 
ively how  the  dictionary-  itself  was  made,  and  for  what 
it  stands.  He  will  point  out  the  relation  existing  be- 
tween the  dictionary-  and  language  and  literature.  He 
will  not  permit  his  pupils  to  think  that  language  or  liter* 


248 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


ature  was  made  from  the  dictionary,  but  he  will  show 
them  that  the  dictionary  is  merely  an  embodiment  of  the 
language.  In  other  words,  he  will  bring  the  pupils  to  see 
that  good  usage  is  the  law  of  language,  and  that  diction- 
aries and  grammars  only  reflect  this  law.  He  will  show 
them  that  such  books,  if  sound  and  useful,  merely  em- 
body the  inductive  studies  of  language  and  literature 
that  scholars  have  made.  In  particular,  he  will  be  sure  to 
lead  his  pupils  to  examine  the  examples  collected  by  the 
author  illustrative  of  definitions.  These  examples,  rather 
than  the  greater  number  of  words  and  definitions,  consti- 
tute the  best  feature  of  an  unabridged  dictionary  in  com- 
parison with  the  smaller  dictionaries.  They  give  a  dis- 
tinct flavor  of  induction  to  the  study  of  definitions,  and 
so  tend  to  prevent  that  dependence  upon  formalism  and 
authority  which  still  kills  so  many  schools.  The  small 
school  dictionaries  are  probably  useful,  but  their  use  is 
attended  with  serious  dangers. 

It  has  long  been  common  for  authors  to  insert  in  text- 
books "  Directions  to  Teachers,"  "  Hints  to  Teachers,"  and 
Hints  to  the  like.  It  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  them  until 
Teachers,  lately  that  the  scholars  themselves  stand  in  need 
of  such  assistance  even  more  than  the  teachers.  But  the 
authors  of  such  works  are  gradually  learning  the  lesson. 
It  is  now  not  uncommon  for  them  to  insert  matter  relat- 
ing to  the  art  of  study,  as  well  as  matter  relating  to  the 
art  of  teaching. 

Carlyle  once  suggested  a  "  professorship  of  things  in 
general."  He  had  in  mind,  I  suppose,  the  thousand 
Professor-  and  one  things  more  or  less  valuable  that,  in  all 
B^^oks^and  ^'^'^  schcmes  of  teaching,  fall  between  chairs 
Reading.  and  SO  are  never  taught  at  all.  Mr.  F.  B. 
Perkins    and    Mr.    William     Mathews — one     a    distin- 


FORMAL   TEACH  I XG  OF  ART  OF  STUDY 


249 


guished  librarian,  the  other  a  well-known  man  of  letters  — 
once  urged  a  more  practical  proposition,  namely,  the 
establishment  of  chairs  of  books  and  reading.  The  pro- 
fessors who  hold  these  chairs,  these  gentlemen  said,  should 
teach  a  method  and  not  a  subject.'  Perhaps  it  would  be 
better  to  say  that  they  should  teach  the  method  of  using 
books  and  reading  as  a  subject ;  for  they  could  not,  if 
they  did  their  duty,  confine  themselves  to  the  practical 
side  of  the  work,  that  is,  mere  reading,  helpful  as  that 
would  be. 

If  I  understand  them  aright,  Mr.  Perkins  and  Mr.  Math- 
ews mean  by  the  professorship  of  books  and  reading, 
^^.    ,     ,    something  in  the  nature  of  a  professorship   of 

Objects  of  °  ^  *^ 

the  Pro-  studies.  Now,  why  not  have  in  colleges  and 
essors  p.  universities  such  a  professorship — a  chair  whose 
occupant  shall  teach  the  Art  of  Study  ?  Why  leave  this 
incomparable  art,  which  really  embraces  all  the  other  arts 
and  studies  of  the  school,  mainly  to  be  picked  up  by 
pupils,  as  it  is  at  present  ?  Some  may  say  that  the  propo- 
sition is  impracticable  and  some  that  it  is  unnecessary. 
Those  who    give  the  second    answer   may   concede    the 

1  Mr.  Perkins  and  Mr.  Mathews  answer  the  question,  "  What  shall  the 
new  chair  teach  .' "  as  follows  :  "  Not  the  history  of  literature,  nor  any  one 
literature,  nor  any  one  department  of  literature,  nor  the  grammar  of  any 
language,  nor  any  one  language,  nor  language  itself,  nor  any  form  of  its 
use,  nor  even  any  particular  form  of  thought.  It  is  something  higher  than 
any  of  these  ;  it  is  not  any  one  subject,  any  one  field  of  investigation,  but 
it  is  a  method  for  investigating  any  subject  in  the  printed  records  of  human 
thought.  It  might  be  compared  with  the  calculus  in  applied  mathematics ; 
it  is  a  means  of  following  up  swiftly  and  thoroughly  the  best  researches  in 
any  direction  and  of  then  pushing  them  further;  it  seeks  to  give  a  last  and 
highest  training  for  enlarging  any  desired  department  of  recorded  human 
knowledge.  It  is  the  science  and  art  of  reading  for  a  purpose  ;  it  is  a  cal- 
culus of  applied  literature." — Public  Libraries  in  the  United  States  of  A  met' 
tea,     Washington,  Bureau  of  Education,  1S76,  p.  zy. 


250  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

value  of  such  instruction,  but  hold  that  teachers  of  all 
grades  should  themselves  give  this  instruction  in  their 
schools.  And  this  is  the  exact  truth.  Teachers  should 
teach  their  pupils  and  students  how  to  study,  but  to  a 
great  extent  they  fail  to  do  so. 

Now,  why  do  they  neglect  this  art  ?  Partly,  no  doubt, 
because  they  do  not  appreciate  its  importance,  and  partly 
Failure  of  because  they  do  not  know  how  to  perform 
Res'^ecrto"  ^^^  duty.  Moreover,  their  lack  of  apprecia- 
the  Art.  tion  and  lack  of  ability  are  closely  bound  up 
together.  Hence,  the  beginning  of  practical  reform 
must  be  the  better  preparation  of  teachers  in  the  art  of 
study — not  their  better  preparation  in  general,  or  in  the 
studies  that  they  teach.  And  this  at  once  brings  into 
view  the  professor  who  is  to  teach  teachers  this  sub- 
ject. 

The  question  will  surely  be  asked,  Is  it  not  the  duty  of 
the  professor  of  pedagogy  to  do  this  work  ?  Undoubt- 
Dut  ofthe  ^*^^y  ^t  is  his  duty,  or  a  part  of  his  duty,  and  a 
Professor  of  part  that  at  present  he  is  not  performing  very 
agogy.  ^^\\^  Unfortunately,  he  does  not  always 
see  clearly  that  there  are  two  points  of  view  from  which 
pedagogical  instruction  may  be  regarded,  viz.,  the  learner's 
point  of  view  and  the  teacher's  point  of  view.  It  is  true 
enough  that  the  fields  which  are  before  those  who  hold 
these  two  points  of  view  are  very  much  the  same. 
The  teacher  is  to  teach  what  the  pupil  is  to  learn,  and 
vice  versa.  Still,  they  are  not  practically  the  same  thing, 
for  learning  and  teaching,  closely  connected  as  they  are, 
are  not  the  same  activity.  Again,  the  art  of  study  and 
the  art  of  teaching,  while  closely  connected,  are  still  two 
different  arts. 

Pedagogical  instruction,  as  everybody  knows,  is  com- 


FORMAL   TEACH  I XG  OF  ART  OF  STUDY.         25  I 

monly  given  from   the  teacher's  point  of  view.     This  is 

„  ,  .  the  outlook  of  writers  and  lecturers  on  the  sub- 
Books  and 

Teachers,  ject.  To  a  Certain  extent  this  is  perfectly  right 
and  proper,  since  instruction  that  is  to  help  teachers  or 
other  intelligent  workers  must  bring  their  own  distinct 
and  separate  art  clearly  before  them.  But  the  difficulty 
is  this  —  the  teacher's  outlook  is  too  exclusive.  The  reader 
of  the  book  or  the  hearer  of  the  lectures  on  teaching  is  not 
made  to  see,  from  the  pupil's  point  of  observation,  the 
ground  that  he  and  the  pupil  are  to  occupy  in  common, 
and  the  result  is  that  he  does  not  see  as  he  should  the 
pupil's  peculiar  difficulties  and  needs. 

We  must  return  to  the  relations  of  learning  and  teach- 
ing.    Learning,  we  have  seen,  is  the  primary  activity,  and, 
as  such,  controls  the  teaching  processes.     The 

Relations  1        •         1      1       1         • 

of  i,earning  tcachcr  s  wliole  busuicss  as  an  mstructor  is  to 
and  Teach-  promote  learning,  and  he  must  go  first  to  the 
pupil  s  mind  for  his  theory  and  art  of  teaching. 
It  may  seem  strange,  therefore,  that  the  teacher's  point  of 
view  is  so  thoroughly  dominant  in  the  literature  of  the  pro- 
fession. There  are  in  the  pupil's  peculiar  line  of  activity 
no  words  corresponding  to  the  words  "  pedagogy  "  and 
"  pedagogical "  in  the  teacher's  line.  The  pupil  has  no 
science  of  learning,  no  art  of  study.  It  will  probably  be 
said  that  the  pupil  has  no  need  of  such  a  science  or  art ; 
that  his  business  is  to  learn  and  not  to  occupy  himself 
with  theories  and  methods  of  learning,  and  this,  in  the 
main,  is  perfectly  true.  It  will  be  said,  too,  that  the  whole 
field  of  learning  is  included  in  psychology,  and  this  state- 
ment contains  much  truth.  Again,  it  will  be  said  that 
the  science  of  psychology  is  too  difficult  for  the  pupil, 
and  that,  even  if  he  could  learn  it,  the  knowledge  which 
he  would  acquire  would  render  him  little  if  any  assistance 


252 


THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 


in  his  work  as  a  learner.     This  is  equally  true  with  the 
other  propositions. 

But  these  concessions  do  not  cover  the  whole  ground. 

The  theory  and  the  art  of  teaching  are  based  directly 

upon  psychology.     The  teacher's  most  familiar 

Point  of        rules   and   methods,  if  good,  run  back  to  the 

View  to  be    facts  of  the    human  mind.     Indeed,  teaching 

Considered.  . 

is  sometimes  expressly  called  applied  psychol- 
ogy. But  the  rules  and  methods  of  learning  are  applied 
psychology  in  a  still  closer  sense.  Learning,  let  it  be 
said  again,  is  the  primary  fact  to  be  considered.  Then 
why  do  not  writers  on  education,  following  this  line  of 
treatment,  give  us  a  literature  of  learning,  including  study, 
as  they  have  already  given  us  a  literature  of  teaching? 
If  it  is  said  that  psychology  is  a  literature  of  learning, 
and  that  teaching  implies  learning,  my  reply  is  that  im- 
plication is  not  enough.  We  need  to  have  these  arts 
recognized  in  their  own  right,  and  this  will  not  be  done 
until  teachers  and  writers  on  education  come  to  look  upon 
the  operation  of  acquiring  knowledge,  or  the  development 
of  the  mind  (whichever  you  see  fit  to  call  it),  more  from 
the  pupil's  and  less  from  the  teacher's  point  of  view. 
How  far  the  art  of  study  could  be  formally  taught  to  the 
pupil  with  advantage  is  a  question  that  has  already  been 
considered ;  but  I  must  insist  that,  if  teachers  generally 
could  be  brought  around  to  the  present  point  of  view,  it 
would  be  a  decided  advantage  to  their  schools.  They 
would  see  that  their  principal  function  as  instructors  is 
not  so  much  to  furnish  their  pupils  with  positive  knowl- 
edge, as  it  is  to  show  them  where  knowledge  is,  how  it  is 
to  be  gained,  and  to  inspire  them  with  a  love  of  it.  It 
is  with  the  hope  of  accomplishing  something  useful  in 
this  direction  that  these  pages  have  been  written. 


FORMAL  TEACHING  OF  ART  OF  STUDY.         253 

Parallel  Reading.  —  Thoughts  Concernitig  Education,  John 
Locke.  New  York,  The  Macmillan  Co.  The  Conduct  of  the 
Understanding,  John  Locke.  New  York,  The  Macmillan  Co. 
On  Self-Culture :  Intellectual,  Physical  and  Moral,  John  Stuart 
Blackie.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1875.  (^  '^''"^^ 
niecum  for  young  men  and  students).  Self-Culture :  Physical, 
Intellectual,  Moral,  and  Spiritual,  James  Freeman  Clarke. 
New  York,  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.  Libraries  and  Readers, 
William  E.  Foster.  New  York,  Publishers'  Weekly.  Libraries 
a//</A-/w^/j,  Samuel  S.  Green.  New  York,  Publishers'  Weekly. 
The  Mastery  of  Books,  Harry  Lyman  Koopman.  New  York, 
American  Book  Company,  1896.  How  to  Do  It,  Edward  Ev- 
erett Hale.  New  York,  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.  Self  Cul- 
tivation ifi  English,  G.  H.  Palmer.  New  York,  Thomas  Y. 
Crowell  &  Co.,  1897.  The  Choice  of  Books  and  Other  literary 
Pieces,  Frederic  Harrison.  New  York,  The  Macmillan  Co. 
Books  That  Have  Helped  Me,  Edward  Everett  Hale  and  Others. 
New  York,  D.  Appleton  &:  Co.,  1888.  Public  Libraries  in  the 
United  States  of  America.  Washington,  Bureau  of  Education, 
1876.  Chap.  IX.  ("  On  Professorships  of  Books  and  Read- 
ing," by  F.  B.  Perkins  and  William  Mathews). 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

TEACHING  AS  A  MODE  OF  LEARNING. 

It  is  not  proposed  in  this  chapter  to  enlarge  upon  the 
general  opportunities  for  mental  cultivation  that  the 
teacher  enjoys,  which  are  an  outgrowth  of  his  vocation, 
but  only  to  emphasize  the  natural  reflex  effect  of  this 
vocation  upon  his  own  knowledge  or  mental  discipline,  or 
to  hold  up  to  view  teaching  as  a  mode  of  learning. 

It  is,  first  of  all,  an  old  saying  that  one  cannot  teach 
what  one  does  not  know.  There  is,  indeed,  high  authority 
One  Cannot  on  the  Other  side.  Pestalozzi,  for  example, 
Teach  What  j-jg^  ^^^t  perfection  of  method  would  make  it 
not  Know,  possible  to  dispense  with  intelligence  in  the 
teacher,  at  least  in  elementary  instruction. 
Method,  he  held,  owes  its  results  to  the  nature  of  its  own 
processes,  and  not  to  the  skill  of  him  who  employs  it. 
He  did  not  hesitate  to  afifirm  that  a  schoolbook  has  no 
value  except  in  so  far  as  it  can  be  employed  by  a  teacher 
without  instruction,  as  well  as  by  one  who  is  well  in- 
structed. A  greater  than  Pestalozzi,  Comenius  himself, 
while  not  going  quite  so  far  as  his  enthusiastic  disciple, 
still  committed  the  same  mistake,  even  giving  one  of  his 
treatises  the  alternative  title,  "  A  Didactic  Machine, 
Mechanically  Contrived  with  a  View  to  No  Longer  Stick- 

254 


TEACHING  AS  A  MODE  OF  LEARNING.  255 

ing  Fast  in  the  Work  of  Teaching  and  Learning,  but 
Mistakes  of  of  Advancing  in  Them."  "  He  regards  his 
Pestaiozzi,   inethod,"  says  Professor  Laurie,  "  as  so  absolute 

Comenius       ...  ''  .  .  ,        ,-,  , 

and  Dr.  HI  its  Character  that  it  may  be  hkened  to  a  ma- 
Beii.  chine  —  a  clock,  or  a  ship,  or  a  mill.  Set  it  going, 

and  keep  it  going,  and  you  will  find  the  result  certain."  * 
Many  attempts  have  been  made  by  distinguished  men  to 
mechanize  instruction,  especially  elementary  instruction, 
but  they  have  failed,  one  and  all,  as  they  were  doomed 
to  fail  from  the  nature  of  the  case.  Dr.  Andrew  Bell 
said  that  if  you  would  give  him  twenty-four  pupils  to-day, 
he  would  give  you  back  twenty-four  teachers  to-morrow, 
but  his  confidence  did  not  prevent  monitorial  instruction 
from  becoming  a  dismal  failure. 

Learning  is  the  free  action  of  the  spirit  upon  objects  of 
knowledge,  and  so  cannot  be  mechanized,  while  teach- 
instruction  i'""?  i^>  perhaps,  the  most  strictly  spiritual  act 
Cannot  be      of  a  social  character  that  a  man  is  capable  of 

Mechan-  . 

i«ed.  performmg.       1  he   attempt  to    mechanize    in- 

struction is  part  of  the  monstrous  error  that 
free  minds  can  be  coerced  ;  it  has  really  the  same  root  as 
religious  persecution.  The  mind  must  be  taught  as  the 
Author  of  Mind  must  be  worshiped,  in  spirit  and  in 
truth.  Method,  indeed,  holds  an  important 'place  in  edu- 
cation, as  has  been  remarked  more  than  once  in  these 
pages,  but  its  place  always  and  everywhere  is  in  strict  sub- 
ordination to  the  teacher.  "  Give  me  a  log  hut  with  only 
a  simple  bench,  Mark  Hopkins  on  one  end  and  I  on  the 
other,"  said  Garfield,  "  and  you  may  have  all  the  build- 
ings, apparatus,   and    libraries  without  him."     And    yet 


"^John  Amos  Cornfuiits:  Ills  Life   and  Educational  Works,  S.  S.  Laurie. 
Boston,  New  England  I'ublishing  Co.,  pj).  54,  55. 


256  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

Garfield  understood  perfectly  the  use  of  books,  appa- 
ratus, and  buildings.  The  learner  may  learn  more  than 
the  teacher  knows,  but  not  from  the  teacher.  So 
far,  in  fact,  is  the  teacher  from  being  able  to  teach 
what  he  does  not  know,  that  he  cannot  even  teach  all 
that  he  does  know.  His  knowledge  is  greater  than  his 
power  of  expression  in  language.  Something  is  always 
lost  in  the  act  of  communication,  just  as  an  engine  uses 
up  much  of  its  own  power  in  friction.  In  cases  where 
confiding  souls  suppose  they  know  each  other  perfectly, 
no  small  part  of  their  knowledge  comes  about  in  ways 
that  they  cannot  explain — they  simply  "  understand  each 
other." 

In  the  next  place,  the  fact  has  long  been  recognized 
that  teaching  is  a  most  effective  means  of  learning.  Sir 
Testimony  William  Hamilton  once  collected  many  strik- 
to  Value  o     '^       testimonies  of  distinguished  men  bearing; 

lyearning  by        *=>  fc>  t> 

Teaching,  on  this  point.  The  following  are  some  of 
the  anonymous  ones : 


"  Knowledge  stored  away  decays  ;  shared  with  others  it  increases." 

"  If  you  seek  to  learn,  teach ;  thus,  you  shall  be  taught  yourself,  for 
by  such  pursuit  you  will  profit  both  yourself  and  your  companion." 

"  To  seek  out  many  things,  to  retain  the  things  sought  out,  to  teach 
the  things  retained,  —  these  three  things  cause  the  master  to  surpass 
the  pupil." 

"  Learn  and  teach  others,  thus  you  shall  be  safely  taught  yourself ; 
and  you  shall  be  more  certain  of  your  art  than  are  the  ordinary." 

"  He  who  teaches  learns ;  he  who  learns  thoroughly  his  studies 
teaches.     That  you  may  go  forth  learned,  I  counsel  you  learn,  teach." 

"We  learn  while  we  teach." 


He  gives  additional  testimonies,  assigning  them  to  their 
authors. 


TEACHING  AS  A  MODE  OF  LEARXIXG.         257 

Plato  .-"To  teach  is  the  way  in  which  we  learn  most  and  best." 

Seneca  :  "  Men  learn  while  they  teach." 

Clement  0/  Alexandria  :  "The  teacher  adds  to  his  learning  and  is 
frequently  a  fellow-disciple  with  those  whom  he  instructs." 

Bishop  Sanderson,  who  appears  to  have  borrowed  the  quotation  from 
one  of  the  Jewish  Rabbis  :  "  I  have  learned  much  from  my  master, 
more  from  my  equals,  but  most  of  all  from  my  disciples." 

It  is  well  known  to  all  students  of  educational  history 
that  the  mediaeval  universities  made  extensive  use  of 
The  Prac-  teaching  as  a  learning  process,  setting  their  stu- 
ticeofthe     clents  to  imparting  their  knowledge  that  they 

Mediaeval  .  ~,        -  .  . 

xjniversi-  might  increase  it.  The  first  teaching  at  these 
ties.  universities  does  not  appear  to  have  been  so 

much  professional  teaching  as  a  system  of  mutual  instruc- 
tion. A  student  who  had  found  repute  among  his  fellows 
gathered  a  little  body  of  pupils  round  him,  and  thus 
supported  himself  for  a  few  years  until  something  better 
offered.^  University  degrees  were  first  instituted  for  a 
practical  purpose,  being  the  first  mode  of  certificating 
teachers  used  in  the  modern  world.  The  doctor's  and 
master's  degrees  were  one  and  the  same  thing,  as  the 
doctor,  the  master,  and  the  professor  were  one  and  the 
same  person  looked  at  from  different  points  of  view.  As 
a  doctor  this  person  was  learned  or  instructed,  as  a 
master  he  taught,  as  a  professor  he  "  professed  "  or  held 
himself  open  to  teach. 

I  .shall  venture  to  summarize  an  instructive  passage 
from  Sir  William  Hamilton,  which  bears  upon  our  sub- 
ject. 

The  older  universities  regarded  the  exercise  of  teaching  as  a  neces- 
sary condition  of  a  perfect  knowledge ;  in  recent  times,  the  universities 

'  On  the  Action  of  Examinations  Considered  as  a  Means  of  Sclectio)t,  Henry 
Latham.     London,  George  Bell  &  Sons,  p.  92. 
Art  of  Study. — 17. 


258  THE  ART  OF  STUDY. 

have  with  equal  unanimity  neglected  this  exercise.  Yet  there  can  be 
Fassaee  "°  doubt  of  the  superior  wisdom  of  the  more  ancient  prac- 
Prom  Ham--  tice.  Teaching,  like  the  quality  of  mercy,  is  twice  blest, 
ilton  Sum-  blessing  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes.  No  one  can 
rightly  teach  who  is  not  fully  cognizant  of  the  matter 
to  be  taught ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  preparation  for,  and  the 
very  process  of,  instruction  reacts  most  beneficially  on  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  instructor,  if  the  instructor  be  intellectually  and  morally 
what  he  ought  to  be.  If  so,  teaching  constrains  him  to  a  clear  and 
distinct  consciousness  of  his  subject  in  all  its  bearings  ;  it  brings 
to  his  observation  any  want  or  obscurity  lurking  in  his  comprehension 
of  it  as  a  whole ;  and  urges  him  to  master  any  difficulty  the  solution  of 
which  he  may  have  previously  adjourned.  The  necessity  of  answering 
the  interrogations  of  others  compels  him,  in  fact,  to  interrogate  and  to 
answer  himself.  In  short,  what  he  has  learned  synthetically,  he 
must  now  study  analytically  ;  but  a  combination  of  analysis  and  syn- 
thesis is  the  condition  of  a  perfect  knowledge.  Still,  it  must  not  be 
supposed  that  the  older  universities,  while  enjoining  the  practice  of 
instruction  as  a  means  of  learning,  abandoned  the  higher  academical 
teaching  to  student-doctors.  On  this  point,  their  practice  was  to  re- 
quire the  student  to  learn  from  the  learned,  while  he  himself  taught 
the  unlearned.  With  many  academical  instructors,  teaching  is  at  best 
a  mechanical  effort,  a  mere  pouring  out  of  what  has  been  previously 
poured  in  ;  professing  to  teach,  teaching  is  for  them  no  self-improving 
process,  and  as  to  their  pupils,  they  "  teach  the  young  parrots  to 
whistle  the  same  as  they  were  taught  to  whistle  when  they  learned  to 
become  parrots."  1 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  student-teachers  could  not  in  the 
long  run  compete  with  professional  teachers,  but  would 
have  to  yield  to  them  in  the  end.  I  am  in  no 
Teachers  sense  advocating  the  introduction  of  such  teach- 
not  Advo-  ers  into  schools,  or  defending  their  retention 
where  they  are  found.  My  thesis  is  that  teach- 
ing is  an  admirable  mode  of  learning  for  those  prepared  to 

*  Discussions  on    Philosophy  and  Literature,  Educatiott   and  University 
Reform.     Edinburgh,  William  Blackwood  &  Sons,  1866,  p.  774. 


TEACHING  AS  A  MODE  OF  LEARNING.         259 

profit  by  it.  The  student  that  I  have  in  mind  is  not  an  im- 
mature pupil  in  school  practicing  upon  his  fellow-pupils, 
but  a  properly  equipped  teacher,  regularly  engaged  in  the 
work  of  instruction.  Such  teacher,  as  we  have  seen, 
must  have  a  sufficient  stock  of  knowledge  with  which  to 
begin,  but  the  beginning  once  made  he  has  an  admirable 
opportunity  both  to  improve  the  quality  and  increase  the 
quantity  of  his  knowledge  and  a  strong  incitement  to 
make  the  most  of  it.  These  more  practical  remarks  will 
close  the  subject : 

1.  The  teacher  will  commonly  discover,  at  least  if  his 
work  is  not  very  elementary,  that  much  of  what  he 
Imperfect  l^nows  needs  to  be  improved  in  its  quality  ;  it 
Quality  of  is  marked  by  a  certain  generality  and  indefinite- 
tllc^er'a  ness.  He  now  finds  out  that  the  step  from 
Knowledge,  the  pupil's  chair  to  the  teacher's  platform  is  a 
long  one.  He  does  not  feel  so  sure  of  his  knowledge  in 
the  new  place  as  he  did  in  the  old  one.  The  questions  of 
the  pupils,  like  the  arrows  of  the  archer,  find  the  weak 
spots  in  his  harness,  and  he  sees  the  need  of  knowing 
many  things  better  than  he  actually  does  know  them. 

2.  He  also  discovers  that  his  knowledge  is  insufficient 
in    quantity,  as  well    as    inferior  in  quality.     Under  the 

chanfied  conditions,  the  questions  of  the  pupils 

Often  Insuf-  ° ^,  ,  ,  , 

ficientin       rcvcal  his   limitations  much   more  thoroughly 

Quantity,  tj^m^  the  qucstious  of  his  own  instructors  have 
ever  done.  Subjects  are  brought  before  him  in  new  ways  ; 
new  vistas  open  to  his  vision  that  he  never  saw  be- 
fore; and  he  feels  the  constant  pressure  of  a  great  re- 
sponsibility. Unconsciously,  perhaps,  he  has  become  a 
pupil  along  with  his  pupils. 

3.  The  teacher  now  learns,  what  he  could  not  have 
fully  understood  before,  that  studies  may  be  regarded  from 


26o  T^l^  ^^^T  OF  STUD  V. 

two  points  of  view, — the  academical  and  the  pedagog- 
p  da  icai*^^^»  —  thepupil's  view  and  the  teacher's  view  — 
study  of  a  and  that  the  two  prospects,  which  lie  open  to 
Perfection^  the  sight,  while  they  have  much  in  common,  still 
of  i/earning.  differ.  The  practical  question  for  the  teacher 
now  is  not  how  to  learn  a  subject  for  himself,  but  how  to 
teach  it  to  another,  or  how  to  help  another  to  learn 
it.  He  is  led  to  study  the  delicate  art  of  asking  questions 
in  its  concrete  relation  to  the  subject-matter  and  to  the 
mind  of  the  pupil,  and  thus  begins  to  understand  Bacon's 
famous  saying  that  the  skillful  question  is  the  half 
of  knowledge.  As  Sir  William  Hamilton  says,  the  in- 
terrogations of  others  compel  the  teacher  to  interro- 
gate himself.  In  a  word,  the  pedagogical  element  of  a 
subject  is  so  essential  to  complete  knowledge  that  one  can 
hardly  be  said  to  understand  fully  what  one  has  not 
taught. 

Parallel  Reading. — Discussiotis  on  Philosophy  and  Lit- 
erature^ Education  and  University  Pefor?n,  Sir  William  Hamilton. 
Edinburgh  and  London,  William  Blackwood  «Si  Sons,  1866,  pp. 
402-404  ;  766-783. 


INDEX. 


Aesthetics,  in  the  schoolroom,  163. 
Alfieri,  anecdote  of,  240,  241. 
Apperception,  defined,  200. 

value  of,- 20 1. 
Arithmetic,  in  the  old  school,  50. 
Arithmetics,  deductive,  222. 

inductive,  224. 
Art,  defined,  20. 

formal,  22,  23. 

reflective,  22. 
Art  of  Questioning,  97. 

Barnett,  P.  A.,  on,  99,  100. 

Fitch,  Sir  J.  G.,  on,  97. 

time  element  in,  103. 
Art   of   Study,   Bain,  Alexander,    on 
literature  of,  244-246. 

defined,  22. 

failure  of   teachers  in   respect  to, 
250. 

involves  skill  and  method,  44. 

neglect  of,  in  the  schools,  25. 

pupils  deficient  in,  26. 

reform  in,  29. 

stage  of,  formal,  235. 

stage  of,  practical,  232,  233, 

value  of,  7. 
Arts,  origin  of,  44. 

Attention,   a    condensing    machine, 
laS. 

active,  no,  in. 

active      and     passive,     combined 
action  of,  163 

active,  cultivation  of,  152. 

active,  hard  to  obtain,  146. 

active,  needs  reiinforcement,  146. 

active,  not  continuous,  145. 

atmosphere    of  school  a  factor  in, 
158. 

Baldwin,  J.  M.,  on,  1 53. 

beginning  and  end  of,  108. 

Carpenter,  W.  B.,  on,  142. 

child's  first  acts  of,  liS, 

26 


Attention,  Compayrc,  Gabriel,  on  the 

education  of,  148. 
continued,  109. 
continuity  and   intensity  of  effort 

in,  156. 
Dexter  and  Garlick,  on,  105,  106. 
discontinuous,  123. 
distractions  in  the  way  of,  162,  163. 
essential  to  success,  125. 
etymology  of  word,  107. 
exceptional  state  of  consciousness, 

149,  150. 
external  signs  of,  107. 
feeling  of  effort  accompanies,  124. 
Fitch,  Sir  J.  G.,  on,  154. 
general  sense  of,  105. 
Hamilton,    Sir    William    on,  n2- 

n4. 
I  Ian  is.  Dr.  W.  T.,  on,  143, 
illustrated,  106. 
interest  and,  122. 
invading  influences  in,  160. 
lens  of  the  mind,   107. 
mental  objects  of,  108. 
passage  from  passive  to  active,  168. 
passive,  no. 

passive,  cultivation  of,  T27. 
passive,  not  suflicient,  145. 
passive,  recnforces  active,  147. 
Perez  on,  166. 

personal  factors  in,  119,  120. 
physical  conditions  of,  159. 
physical  effects  of,  n5. 
Kibot  on,  144,  160,  165,  166,  167. 
takes   direction   of  any  cognitive 

faculty,  109. 
talk  about,  152,  153. 
teacher  a  factor  in,  15S,  159. 
temptations  in  the  way  of,  161. 
time  and  place  factors  in,  120,  121. 
two  kinds  of,  no,  n  i,  163,  1C4. 
value  of,  in  education,  117, 


262 


INDEX. 


Attention.voluntary,  12 1 
will  in  active,  147,  14S 


126. 


Bain,  Alexander,  on  history,  1S5. 

on  literature  of  art  of  study,  244- 
246. 

on  oral  teaching,  42,  43. 

on  study,  15,  16. 

on  thoroughness,  184,  185. 
Baldwin,  J.  M.,  on  attention,  153. 
Barnett,  P.  A.,  on  methods,  94. 

on  questioning,  99,  100. 

on  "  quizzing  "  lessons,  80-82. 
Blackie,  J.  S-,  Self-Ciilture,  246. 
Books  and  teachers,  251, 
Boys,    German,  French,    American, 
compared,  27,  28. 

Carpenter,  W.  B.,  on   attention,  114, 
115,  142. 
on  "willfulness,"  193. 
Chadbourne,  P.  A.,  on  waste  in  edu- 
cation, 78. 
Child,  an  original  discoverer,  209. 
deductive  methods  learned  by,  210. 
first  acts  of  attention  of,  passive, 

118. 
first  appearance  in  school,  41. 
in  the  historic  world,  213,  216. 
in  the  social  world,  212,  214. 
reflex  mental  life  of,  141. 
second-hand  knowledge    acquired 
by,  210,  211. 
Children,  kept  too  long  on  a  lesson, 
180. 
precocious,  iSo. 

should   learn  the  use  of  books  in 
school,  69. 
Choices  tend  to  become  interesting, 

155- 
Clarke,  Rev.  J.  F.,  Self-Culture,  246. 
Comenius,  quoted,  216,  221,  254. 
Comparison  and  judgment,  203. 
Compayre,  Gabriel,  on  attention,  118. 
on  novelty  and  other  stimuli,  122, 

123. 
Consciousness,  defined,  105. 
Course  of  Study,  130,  131. 

Deduction,  abridgment  of  process  of, 
207. 
a  method  of  application,  208. 
in  apperception,  211. 


Deduction,  induction,  combined  with 
220,  227. 
induction  precedes,  220,  221. 
in  historic  world,  216. 
in  old  arithmetics   and  grammars, 

222,  223. 
in  social  world,  215. 
syllogism   a   perfect  type  of,    204, 
205. 
Demonstrator,  teacher  as,  66. 
Development  and  knowledge,  35,  "})(>. 
Dexter   and    Garlick,   on   attention, 

105,  106. 
Dictionary,  lessons  in   the    use    of, 

247,  248. 
Discipline,  formal,  34,  35. 
Dropping  subjects,  129. 

Energ}',  misdirected  in  schools,  33. 

"  Facts  before  principles,"  not  a  uni- 
versal rule,  229,  230. 
Faraday,  on   clear  ideas   and   judg- 
ment, 171. 
Feeling,  active  in   the  child,  189. 
relation  of,  to  intellect  andwill,i87. 
problems  presented  by,  191. 
proper  kind  of,  to  be  cultivated  in 

the  school,  192. 
violent,  to  be  repressed,  192. 
Field  of  this  work  defined,  7,  8. 
"  First  the  idea,  then  the  word,"  not 

a  universal  rule,  231. 
Fitch,  Sir  J.  G.,  on  attention,  154. 
on   questions  and  questioning,  98, 
99. 
Forgotten  knowledge,  uses  of,  103. 
Formal   stage  of  art  of  study,  232, 

235- 
first  instruction  m,  237. 
passage   to,  from   practical    stage, 

236. 
subject-matter  of,  237. 
Foster,  W.  E.,  Libraries  and  Readers, 

246. 
Franklin,    Benjamin,      "  Moral     Al- 
gebra," 172. 

Garfield,  General,  story  told  by,  85, 

86. 
Geography,  in  the  old  school,  50,  51. 

study-recitation  in,  5S-60. 
Geometry,  study-recitation  in,  60-62. 


INDEX. 


263 


Graded  school  idea,  the,  70. 
Grammar,  study-recitation  in,  62,  63. 
Green,  S.  S.,  Libraries  and  Schools, 

247- 
Grooving  the  mind,  177. 

Harris,  Dr.  W.  T.,  on,  178,  179. 

Hale,  E.  E.,  IJcnu  to  Do  It,  246. 
Hamilton,  Sir  William,  on  attention, 
1 12-1 14. 
on  learning  by  teaching,  257,  258. 
Harris,   Dr.   W.    T.,    on    attention, 

M3- 
on  grooving  the  mind,  178,  179. 
on  the  normal  school,  86,  87. 
Harrison,  Frederic,     TAc    Choice   of 

Bool's,  246. 
Historic  world,  213,  216. 
History,  German  course  in,  64. 
Hope  and  fear,  effects  of,  195. 
Hours  of  the  day,  factor  in  attention, 
129. 

Ideals  of  study,  correct,  84. 

in  mathematics  and  history,  85. 

vary,  84. 
Ideas,  clear,  value  of,  171. 

general,  201,  202. 

influence  of,  on  the  will,  175,  176. 
Ignorance,  79. 
Imitation,  135. 
Impulse,  two  kinds  of,  in. 
Individual,  and  the  race,  227. 
Induction,   abuses    of,    in    teaching, 
22S,  229. 

combined  with  deduction,  220,227. 

deduction  follows,  220,  221. 

exaggerated    use   of,   in    teaching, 
225. 

in  historic  world,  213,  214. 

in  new  arithmetics  and  grammars, 
224. 

in  social  world,  214,  215. 

in  text-books,  222. 

method  of  discovery,  208. 
Inferences,  inductive  and  deductive, 

204. 
Instruction,  cannot  be    mechanized, 

255- 
Intellect,  relations  of,  to  feeling  and 

will,  187. 
Interest,  defined,  122 

environment  a  factor  in,  133. 


Interest,evils  flowing  from,  138. 

home  and  school  factors  in,  134. 

imitation,  a  factor  in,  135. 

novelty,  a  source  of,  122. 

other  motives  than,  156. 

personal  element  in,  136. 
Interests,  borrowed,  165,  166. 

child's,  in  hands  of  teacher,  138. 

choice  of,  148. 

correlation  of,  167. 

deeper,  136,  137. 

general,  131. 

importance  of  discriminating,  137. 

individual,  132. 

miscellaneous,  242,  243. 

new,  teacher  to  create,  164,  165. 

old,  teacher  to  summon,  164. 

permanent,  132. 

temporary,  133. 

two  ways  of  dividing,  131, 
Intermittent  minds,  239. 

James,  Professor  William,  on  atten- 
tion, 154,  164. 
on  pride  and  pugnacity,  139,  140. 
Judgments,     affirmative    and    nega- 
tive, 203. 
primary  and  secondary,  204. 

Kames,  Lord,  on  memory  and  judg- 
ment, 179. 

Klemm,  Dr.  L.  R.,  on  German 
Schools,  58-60,  62,  63. 

Knowledge,   first   and   second-hand, 

8,9- 
sound  and  unsound,  174,  175. 
teaching  moves  in  the  two  spheres 

of,  40. 
two  spheres  of,  39. 
Koopman,  H.  L.,  Mastery  of  Books, 

247. 

Language,  significance  of,  121. 
Learn,  etymology  of  the  word,  9. 
Learning,  by  heart,  loi. 

in  parallel  lines,  97. 

relations   of,   and   teaching,   7-Ii 
219,  251,  254. 

study  and,  14-19. 
Lesson,  aim  of,  94,  95. 

assignment  of,  83- 

"attacking"  the,  78-88. 

central  points  of,  8:. 


;64 


INDEX. 


Lesson,  correlative  of  recitation,  56. 

etymology  of  the  word,  55, 

pupil  and,  70. 

"  quizzing,"  80-82. 

should  be  made  interesting,  128. 

subdivisions  of,  82. 

subject  of,  80. 

See  Recitatiojt- Lesson  and  Study- 
Lesson. 
Life,  reflex,  of  the  child,  141, 

reflex,  inferior  to  active,  142. 
Locke,  John,  quoted,  233,  244. 

Mann,  Horace,  on  schools  and  school 

readers,  71,  72. 
Mathews,  on  professorship  of  books 

and  reading,  248,  249. 
Mediaeval  Universities,  257. 
Memory,  and  judgment.  Lord  Kames 

quoted,  179. 
Mental  activity,  growth,  the  law  of. 

Mental    discipline,  effects   of  miscel- 
laneous activities  on,  242,  243. 

maintenance  of,  242. 
Method,  abuse  of  word,  197. 

defined  and  vindicated,  198. 

deductive,  208. 

inductive,  208. 

of  learning,  197-217. 

of  new  text-books,  224. 

of  old  text-books,  222-224. 

of  teaching,  219-231. 

results  of  old  and  new,  225,  226. 

skill  and,  21. 

unity  of,  217. 
Miscellaneous  interests,  242,  243. 
"Moral  Algebra,"  Benjamin  Frank- 
lin's, 172. 

Novelty  a  source  of  interest,  122. 

Objects     of     the      recitation-lesson, 
primary,  91-93. 
subordinate,  93. 
Observation  and  induction,  215. 
Old  schools,  arithmetic  as  taught  in, 

50- 
geography  as  taught  in,  50,  51. 
reading  as  taught  in,  49,  50. 
results  of  regimen  in,  51,  52. 
Order  of  studies,  the  natural,  71. 


Palmer,    G.   H.,   Self-Cultivation  in 

English,  246. 
Pedagogical  study,  260. 
Pedagogy,  kinds  of,  31. 
objective,  31,  32. 
professor  of,  should  teach  art  of 

study,  250. 
subjective,  31,  32. 
weakness  of  oI)jective,  36. 
weakness  of  subjective,  36,  37. 
Penitentiary,  admittance  to,  solicited, 

241,  242. 
Perception,  defined,  199. 

comprehensiveness  of,  202. 
Perez,  on  borrowed  interests,  166. 
Periodicals,  use  of,  247- 
Perkins,  on    professorship    of  books 

and  reading,  248,  249. 
Pestalozzi,  mistake  in  theory  of  teach- 
ing- 255. 
Physical  effects  of  attention,  115. 
Place,  as  a  factor  in  attention,  120, 

121. 
Power,  and  knowledge,  32,  33. 
Practical  stage  of  art  of  study,  232, 

Practice,  and  tlieory,  21. 

not  formal  art,  22. 
Preyer,  Dr.  W.,  on  attention,  iii. 
Primary  faculties,    examples  of,  dis- 
cussed, 1S8,  189. 
factors  in,  191. 

Sully,  Dr.  James,  quoted  on,  188. 
variation  of,  direct,  190. 
variation  of,  indirect,  190. 
Problem,  etymology  of  word,  83. 
Professorship  of  books  and  reading, 

248,  249. 
Promotions,  181,  182. 
caution  concerning,  182. 
public  interest  in,  183. 
Pujjil,  character  of,  formed  by  regi- 
men of  school,  87. 
deficient  in  art  of  study,  26. 
dependence  of,  on  teacher,  53. 
emotional      adjustment      of,      to 

teacher,  194. 
first  formal  instruction  of,  in  art  of 

study,  237. 
language  of  lesson  to  be  adapted 

to,  102. 
non-adjustment     of,     to    teacher, 
52- 


INDEX. 


265 


Pupil,  passage  of,  from  first  to  second 
stage  of  art  of  study,  236. 

point  of  view  of,  to  be  considered, 
2;2. 

ready  for  the  lesson,  70,  73,  74. 

suitable  text-books  for,  73. 

teacher  and,  function  of,  12. 

teacher  anticipated  by,  236. 

teacher  to  lead,  234. 

unconscious  of  method,  233. 
I'uritan  regimen,  139. 

Questioning,  see  Art  of  Questioning. 
Questions,  three  kinds  of,  97,  98. 
use  of  each  kind,  98. 

Reading,  art  of,  child  learns,  45. 

as  taught  in  the  old  school,  49,  50. 

first  lesson  in,  43. 

passage  from,  to  study,  48. 

study  an'i,  17,  18. 

technique  of,  44,  45. 

use  of  term,  in  England,  18. 
Recitation,  correlative  of  lesson,  56. 

in  American  schools,  89. 

oral  and  written,  102. 

to  be  retained  in  the  school,  90. 

unknown  in  English  schools,  80, 90. 

use  of  the  word,  56. 
Recitation-Lesson,  89. 

objects  of,  91-93. 

steps  in,  93-96. 
Ribot,  Th.,   on   attention,   iii,    144, 
149,  150,  160,  167. 

on  borrowed  interests,  165,  166. 
Rules  of  study,  origin  of,  235. 

School,  changes  in  the,  52,  53. 

progress  in,  27. 

programme  of,  130. 

pupil's  character  formed  by,  87. 
"  Short-cuts  "  in  learning  and  teach- 
ing, 226. 
Skill  and  method,  21. 
Social  world,  212,  214,  215. 
Student-teachers,  258,  259. 
Study,  Bain,  Alexander,  on,  15,  16. 

etymology  of  the  word,  14. 

learning  and,  15,  19. 

not  limited  to  schools,  17. 

passage  to,  from  reading,  48,  49. 

practical  and  formal,  23. 

reading  and,  discriminated,  17,  18. 


Study.teachingand,  differentiated,  56. 
use  of  books  and,  16. 

See  Art  of  Study. 
Study-Lesson,  defined,  68. 
source  of  waste,  78. 
value  of,  69. 
Study-Recitation,  compared  to  labora- 
tory method  of  instruction,  65. 
defined,  57. 
examples  of,  58, 64. 
in  American  schools,  65,  66. 
in  German  schools,  57,  58. 
See  Art  of  Study. 
Sully,  Dr.  James,  on  primary  facul- 
ties, 188. 
Syllogism,  examples  of,  204,  207,  208. 

Teach,  etymology  of  the  word,  9. 
Teacher,  anticipated  by  pupil,  236. 

cannot    teach   what   he    does   not 
know,  254. 

character  of  books  written  for,  238, 

251- 
dependence  of  pupil  on,  53. 
double  duty  of,  41,  42. 
emotional  adjustment  of,  to  pupil, 

factor  in  pupils'  interest,  15S. 
failure    of,   in    respect    to    art   of 

study,  250. 
field  of  work  should  be  reconnoi- 

tered  by,  73,  74. 
function  of,  39,  45. 
hints  to,  248. 

in  German  schools,  57,  58. 
knowledge  of  youthful,  imperfect, 

259. 
language-arts     should    be    taught 

by,  43- 
Latham  on  method  of,  37,  38. 
mental  control  of,  243. 
non-adjustment  of  pupil  to,  52. 
pupil  and,  function  of,  12. 
purpose  of,  need  not  be  disclosed, 

reform  in  art  of  study  must  be  led 

by,  29. 
regarded  as  a  student,  238. 
should  allow  pupils  sufficient  time, 

157. 
should  help  pupils  at  assignment 

of  lesson,  75,  76. 
should  work  with  pupils,  46. 


266 


INDEX. 


Teacher,  testimony  of,  as   to  pupils' 

defects,  26,  27. 
Teaching,  a   mode  of  learning,  254- 
260. 

correctives  of  formalism  in,  221. 

Hamilton,  Sir  William,  on,  257,  258. 

in  Germany,  29. 

in  Sunday-school,  72,  73. 

moves   in    two   spheres  of  knowl- 
edge, 40,  41. 

objective,  221. 

old  and  new  methods  of,  225. 

oral,  222. 

pure  form  of,  47,  48. 

relations   of,   and    learning,    7-12, 
219,  251,  254. 

study  and,  differentiated,  56. 

superiority  of,  in  Germany,  58. 
Testimony  to   value  of  learning  by 

teaching,  256,  257. 
Text-books,  deductive,  222,  223. 

inductive,  222,  224. 
Theory,  and  practice,  21. 
Thoroughness,  170-185. 

clear  ideas,  and,  171. 

future  value  of,  173. 


Thoroughness,  lack  of,  in  schools,  174. 

present  value  of,  170. 

promotions  and,  181. 

relativity  of  the  term,  176,  177. 
Time,  as  a  factor  in  attention,  120. 
Todd,  Dr.  John,  Student's  Manual, 
245- 

Vincent,  Dr.  G.  E.,  on  "  Short-cuts," 

226. 
Vocations,  136. 
Volitional  control,  value  of,  240. 

Walker,  General  F.  A.,  on  children'3 
exercises,  53,  54. 

Ward,  Professor    L.  F.,   on   instruc- 
tion and  experience,  227. 

Watts,  Dr.  Isaac,  hnprovement  of  the 
Mind,  245. 

Wayland,  Dr.  Francis,  on  his  early 
instruction,  77. 

Will,  focuses  the  intellect,  147. 
relations  of,  to  intellect  and  feel- 
ing, 187-191. 

World,  historic,  213,  216. 
social,  212,  214,  215. 


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Sufficiently  elementary  for  the  lower  grades  of  High  School  classes 

and  complete  enough  for  all  Secondary'  Schools.     Inductive  in  method, 

orderly  in  arrangement,  and  clear  and  comprehensive  in  treatment,  with 

copious  exercises  in  both  criticism  and  construction. 


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Halleck's   Psychology   and 
Psychic   Culture 

By  REUBEN    POST    HALLECK,  M.A.  (Yale) 
Cloth,  12mo,  368  pages.     Illustrated      ....         Price  $1.25 


This  new  text-book  in  Psychology  and  Psychic  Culture 
is  suitable  for  use  in  High  School,  Academy  and  College 
classes,  being  simple  and  elementary  enough  for  beginners 
and  at  the  same  time  complete  and  comprehensive  enough 
for  advanced  classes  in  the  study.  It  is  also  well  suited 
for  private  students  and  general  readers,  the  subjects  being 
treated  in  such  an  attractive  manner  and  relieved  by  so 
many  apt  illustrations  and  examples  as  to  fix  the  attention 
and  deeply  impress  the  mind. 

The  work  includes  a  full  statement  and  clear  exposition 
of  the  coordinate  branches  of  the  study — physiological  and 
introspective  psychology.  The  physical  basis  of  Psychol- 
ogy is  fully  recognized.  Special  attention  is  given  to 
the  cultivation  of  the  mental  faculties,  making  the  work 
practically  useful  for  self-improvement.  The  treatment 
throughout  is  singularly  clear  and  plain  and  in  harmony 
with  its  aims  and  purpose. 

"  Halleck's  Psychology  pleases  me  very  much.  It  is  short,  clear, 
interesting,  and  full  of  common  sense  and  originality  of  illustration. 
1  can  sincerely  recommend  it." 

WILLIAM  JAMES, 
Professor  of  Psychology,  Harvard  University. 


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Seeley's   History   of  Education 

By  Dr.  LEVI   SEELEV 
Professor  of  Pedago^',  State  Normal  School,  Trenton,  N.  J. 

Cloth,  12nno,  350  pages.     Price,  $1.25 

Nearly  400,000  active  teachers  in  the  United  States 
are  required  to  pass  an  examination  in  the  History  of 
Education.  Normal  schools,  and  colleges  with  pedagog- 
ical departments  lay  particular  stress  upon  this  subject 
and  the  Superintendents  of  Education  in  most  states, 
counties,  and  cities,  now  expect  their  teachers  to  possess 
a  knowledge  of  it. 

This  book  is  not  based  on  theory,  but  is  the  practical 
outgrowth  of  Dr.  Seeley's  own  class-work  after  years  of 
trial.  It  is  therefore  a  working  book,  plain,  comprehen- 
sive, accurate,  and  sufficient  in  itself  to  furnish  all  the 
material  on  the  subject  required  by  any  examining  board, 
or  that  may  be  demanded  in  a  normal  or  college  course. 

It  arranges  the  material  in  such  a  manner  as  to  appeal 
to  the  student  and  assist  him  to  grasp  and  remember 
the  subject. 

It  gives  a  concise  summary  of  each  system  discussed, 
pointing  out  the  most  important  lessons. 

It  lays  stress  upon  the  development  of  education, 
showing  the  steps  of  progress  from  one  period  to  another. 

It  begins  the  study  of  each  educational  system  or 
period  with  an  examination  of  the  environment  of  the 
people,  their  history,  geography,  home  conditions,  etc. 

It  gives  a  biographical  sketch  of  the  leading  educators, 
and  their  systems  of  pedagogy,  including  those  of  Horace 
Mann  and  Herbart. 

It  treats  of  the  systems  of  education  of  Germany, 
France,  England,  and  the  United  States, — bringing  the 
study  of  education  down  to  the  present  time. 

It  furnishes  the  literature  of  each  subject  and  gives  an 
extensive  general  bibliography  for  reference. 


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Webster's  School  Dictionaries 

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WEBSTER'S  SCHOOL  DICTIONARIES  in  their  revised  form  con. 
stitute  a  progressive  series,  carefully  graded  and  especially  adapted  for 
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vate students.  These  Dictionaries  have  all  been  thoroughly  revised, 
entirely  reset,  and  made  to  conform  in  all  essential  respects  to  that  great 
standard  authority  in  English, — Webster's  International  Dictionary. 

WEBSTER'S  PRIMARY  SCHOOL  DICTIONARY        .         .         .     $0.48 
Containing    over    20,000    words    and    meanings,    with    over    400 

illustrations. 

WEBSTER'S  COMMON  SCHOOL  DICTIONARY       .        .        .     $0.72 
Containing    over    25,000    words    and    meanings,    with    over    500 
illustrations. 

WEBSTER'S  HIGH  SCHOOL  DICTIONARY      ....     $0.98 
Containing  about  37,000  words  and  definitions,  and  an  appendix 

fiving  a  pronouncing  vocabulary  of  Biblical,  Classical,  Mythological, 
[istorical,  and  Geographical  proper  names,  with  over  800  illustrations. 

WEBSTER'S  ACADEMIC  DICTIONARY.  Cloth,  $1.50;  Indexed,  $1.80 
The  Same  ....  Half  Calf,  $2.75 ;  Indexed,  $3.00 
Abridged  directly  from  the  International  Dictionary,  and  giving  the 
orthography,  pronunciations,  definitions,  and  synonyms  of  the  large 
vocabulary  of  words  in  common  use,  with  an  appendix  containing 
Various  useful  tables,  with  over  800  illustrations. 

SPECIAL  EDITIONS 

Webster's  Countinghouse  Dictionary    .         .  Sheep,  Indexed,  $2.40 

Webster's  Condensed  Dictionary     .     Cloth,  $1.44  ;  Indexed,     1.75 

The  Same      .         .        .  Half  Calf,  $2.75 ;  Indexed,     3.00 

Webster's  Handy  Dictionary 15 

Webster's  Pocket  Dictionary.     Cloth .57 

The  Same.     Roan  Flexible 69 

The  Same.     Roan  Tucks      ......         .78 

The  Same.     Morocco,  Indexed 90 

Webster's  American  People's  Dictionary  and  Manual    .         .         .48 
Webster's  Practical  Dictionary 80 


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Si 


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AA    001  224  924    9 


L   009   538   012   7 


